


Undenied

by TheHatterTheory



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: 3 parts, Angst, Bloodplay, Canon Compliant, Claws, Complete, Denial, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, HUNCH PUNCH, Hunch Punch lime lemon cherry and pineapple too, Lemon, Lime, Long, Love, Masochism, Nipple Piercings, Piercing, Romance, Rough Sex, Sadism, Sadomasochism, Secrets, Sexual Tension, Sneaking Around, Time Travel, character exploration, citrus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-17
Updated: 2011-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-08 15:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHatterTheory/pseuds/TheHatterTheory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because you're someone's mirror doesn't  mean you accept it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warnings:** Under negotiated kinks/play, mildly dubious consent, sadism, masochism, piercing, branding
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Inuyasha

Another fight, another battle. Although this one had been different than most, the outcome more important. Sesshoumaru glared at his brother imperiously, eyes cold and filled with a pride she wasn't entirely sure he felt. After all, he had just given up the only offensive power Tenseiga had and given up on Tessaiga, at least she she believed he had. Somehow she couldn't see him lying just to trick them.

“Piss off, jackass,” Inu Yasha snapped, turning away and stalking from the group. Moving to follow, she was stunned when his hand wrapped around her arm, claws pricking the skin. Unable to help the jolt of pain that lanced down her arm and settled warmly in her belly, she held her breath and prayed he would let her go.

He didn't.

“You are all too weak to defeat Naraku,” He intoned flatly. She tried tugging her arm away, which only served to make him tighten his grip. His claws pierced the skin, barely perceptible, but her breath hitched as heat lanced through her. Unable to stop the blush burning her face, she looked up at him, readying herself for a front, a mask of anger to cover the unsettling sensation of static running over her skin.

Any words she had died in the face of his narrowed gold eyes. Wind pushed against them, tousling her hair and shifting his gently.

“Sesshoumaru-”

His grip tightened, and she could feel the claws forced deeper into the flesh of her arm, the barest of movements that almost drug a moan from her throat. Instead, she bit her bottom lip, determined not to give away the secret to anyone else. He knew though, that much she could tell by the incremental widening of his eyes.

He flung her arm away as if it had burned him and spun on his heel, stalking away from the group, completely ignoring Jaken and Rin. If it had been anyone else, she would have called it fleeing, but his steps were measured and calm, although his back was ramrod straight and his shoulders stiff, not moving in time with his gait.

“Kagome, are you alright?” Sango asked, laying a concerned hand on her shoulder.

“I'm fine,” She said, forcing a smile. “He just gripped my arm a little too hard.”

“He probably gave up because you didn't scream mercy,” Sango snorted as she moved away. “Come on, we need to catch up with Inu Yasha.”

For the next several hours she refrained from touching her arm, knowing it would only call attention to the small dots that were quickly scabbing over. She did however, worry about him knowing. It was something she had only come to terms with in the last year, and the idea of the daiyoukai knowing brought the familiar sting of shame. Undoubtedly he was repulsed, or thought it a strange human condition. Hoping he brushed it off as another human habit he would not wish to contemplate or understand, she forced herself to forget that it had happened.

____________________________________

The full moon was a welcome companion as she crept through the darkness, looking for dead fall. Sango and Miroku had long ago parted ways with her to 'search'. Of course she knew what they were up to, she'd have to be an idiot not to be. She did hope that they made use of the contraceptives she had brought back from her time. After all the embarrassment she she had gone through to get them, they had better, anyway.

Her arms were almost full, and she was considering turning back when she felt the brush of familiar youki against her senses. Still leery of his presence, she turned on her heel and began making her way back to camp, more than willing to avoid any possibility of running into him.

However, he seemed determined to force a confrontation of sorts, as he dropped from his place in the trees to stand in front of her, looking down at her speculatively.

“Miko.”

“Sesshoumaru. Hi,” She mumbled, moving to step around him. Embarrassment tinged with shame forced her feet into moving, clumsy steps that betrayed her anxiety.

In the stillness of the night, the sound of the branches she'd gathered hitting the ground echoed like a stampede. The breath was shocked out of her lungs as she made impact with a tree. Her arm was pulled over her head, pinned against the bark by his hand. Her baggy sleeve slid down, exposing the pale skin beneath to the moon.

“Sesshoumaru, stop,” She bit out, trying to tug her hand away.

The feel of his claw piercing the flesh inside of her arm stopped the tirade, the cold sensation numbing her tongue. Unable to look away from his inquisitive gold eyes, she dared not even blink as he stared down at her intently, searching for something.

The pressure increased as he moved the claw further down her arm, cutting through the first few layers of skin and calling forth tiny droplets of blood that welled slowly and began trickling down. Barely holding in the moan that wanted to escape, she bit her lip, remembering weeks before when he had unintentionally hurt her.

Now it was very intentional, and while she knew he probably had no idea what was wrong with her, she also doubted he had any real idea what he was doing.

The blood slipped down her arm, winding down around the curve to rest as it congealed.

“This pleases you,” He murmured, as if her reaction was a small revelation, a miracle.

She yanked her arm away, feeling too much like a specimen under a microscope for her own comfort. The tingling pleasure was gone, replaced with acute embarrassment and the first whispers of guilt.

“What?” She demanded, unnerved by his unwavering stare. “What do you want?”

“Are all humans like you?” He demanded in a quiet voice.

“No,” She bit out, tugging her sleeve over her arm to hide the mark, suddenly ashamed that she had, however unwillingly, given in to the sensation. “I'm different.”

It was perhaps, the crux of most of her problems.

“Are there others?”

“Some.”

“How many?”

“Masochists?” She asked. He repeated the word as a question, and she shook her head, chuckling bitterly. “Not many.”

“How is it you become aroused from pain?”

“I don't know. Science hasn't figured it out yet.”

“You are an anomaly.”

“Something like that.”

She hugged her sides, feeling very small beneath his gaze. When he tensed, she readied herself for death, wondering if he thought her something too twisted and loathsome to live. But he lunged into the air, breaking through the canopy, leaving her behind.

She gathered the wood, ignoring the burn inside of her arm as the rough bark scratched her through the sleeve of her shirt, and walked back to camp. No one said anything as she dropped the wood and moved for her first aid kit. Shippou was asleep and Inu Yasha watched from the other side of the fire. Miroku and Sango still hadn't returned.

“What happened?” He asked quietly.

“Tripped and cut myself on something,” She mumbled as she cleaned off her arm and poured peroxide over the cut. Quickly rubbing some ointment on it, she rolled some gauze around her arm, completely obscuring it from view and taping the bandage neatly. Sango returned several minutes before Miroku, both of them flushed and smiling small, secretive smiles. Briefly she wondered why they tried to hide it. Their love was natural. They were natural.

Sesshoumaru's curiosity reminded her that she was not.

____________________________________

 

 

The next time she saw him, it was to answer the pull of his youki, familiar by now, demanding she follow the tendril of power that was nothing less than a command. Mumbling about needing to use the bathroom, she walked from the camp, curiosity piqued. Inu Yasha, in his human guise, warned her not to go too far, and she muttered something as she hurried her pace.

When she found him, he was standing in a clearing, the whiteness of his hair and clothing reflecting what little starlight there was.

“The hanyou is human tonight,” He mumbled. She nodded, not questioning how he knew.

“What you are,” He began, pausing. Afraid to speak, she hugged her sides, the small, shamed feeling returning. He was the only one that knew her secret in this era, and she wondered what he thought of it. He was obviously curious, why else would he summon her?

“Does it have a compliment?”

“A compliment?”

“An opposite.”

“Yes,” She murmured, thinking of the man she'd spoken to. He had found his compliment, explained it to her.

“Do they have a name?”

“Sadists.”

“Are they also rare?”

“In their way,” She sighed, thinking of everything she'd been told and what she'd read.

“Explain.”

It was difficult to see him in the darkness, only outlines of his clothing and hair. His expression was completely hidden from her, his gold eyes only catching the light and reflecting it. Feeling more secure because she couldn't see it instead of less, she began repeating what little she knew.

“There are those that think they are, but they're just expressing some sort of anger or trauma. It's the same for people like me. People that are born this way are rare, and no one understands what really makes us what we are.”

“A defect.”

“Different chemistry,” She rebutted, stung by the word he'd used and his tone.

“Chemistry?”

“The body, the brain, it's own way of reacting to different stimulus. Sometimes people are just born different.”

He was quiet for several minutes, and she considered leaving. After all, that was all she really knew on the subject, at least scientifically. However, just as she was moving to leave, he came forward, a pale shadow in the darkness. His large, rough hand gripped her wrist and brought it up.

His grip tightened, bruising her skin and eliciting a strangled gasp of shock. Claws pricked her skin, digging in painfully, each prick of sensation traveling up her arm and to her heart, making it beat double time.

“Stop,” She whimpered.

“Is this not what pleases you?”

He should know what it was doing to her. Despite the fact that she didn't want it to, that she was a curiosity, he was beautiful and he was intense, and he was so focused on her. Had he been just a little nicer, he could easily be the stuff of fantasy. As it was, he wasn't.

“Please, Sesshoumaru,” She gasped, trying to pull her arm away.

“Does it?”

“Don't-”

“Does this pleasure you?”

“No,” She shouted, finally able to pull her arm away from his grip.

“You lie.”

“I don't want someone to do it just because they're curious you jerk,” She snapped, feeling violated and alone in the empty wood. “Just because women like sex doesn't men they want men raping them.”

“You consider such as rape?” The incredulity in his tone was not lost on her.

“How would _you_ feel if someone started taking liberties with you?”

He said nothing, instead turning on his heels and leaving, the paleness of him melting into the dark shadows of the forest. Heaping epithets on his head and hoping he heard, she turned and stalked back to camp, muttering the whole way, just as she did every time she saw the bruises for days thereafter.

____________________________________

 

It was the next full moon when she felt his youki pulling her from sleep, demanding she wake and follow it. The others, even Inu Yasha, were so fast asleep she was sure a meteor falling into their camp wouldn't wake them. Remembering the prior visit, she turned angrily in her sleeping bag, one hand around her wrist and rubbing circles absentmindedly with her thumb.

The demand did not let up, and after what felt like an hour -but was probably only minutes- she struggled from her sleeping bag and followed it, determined to give the daiyoukai a piece of her mind. The rough ground bruised and cut the pads of her feet a she stomped into the shadows of the forest, following the pulsing command.

When she found him, he was sitting in a small clearing, looking as if he hadn't moved for centuries.

“Well?” She demanded petulantly.

“Sit.”

She moved to sit across from him, a volley of insults ready. However, he chose that moment to pull her foot into his lap. He examined it for several moments, eyes flicking from her to her foot before setting it down on his knee.

“You have been hurt.”

“And?” She bit out.

“Did it please you?”

“No,” She snapped vehemently.

“Why?”

“Because I was too angry that some asshole woke me up in the middle of the night so he could examine me like some freak,” She snarled, not caring if she made him angry. He regarded her calmly despite her tone and words, and for several minutes she was left breathing heavily, her foot still on his knee.

“Would it have?”

“Why are you doing this?” She demanded, ignoring the question and pulling her foot from his lap and standing. “Why do you keep calling me out to ask about this? I know I'm a little different, but surely I can't be that special.”

She was pinned to the ground beneath him before she fully understood what was going on. He was kneeling over her, staring down at her as if she were an idiot.

For several breathless moments, the only things she knew were the feel of his hand traveling up her thigh, into the baggy opening of her sleep shorts, and the intense, burnished gold of his eyes as veins of red began to bleed into them.

The claw dragging back down the skin, following the path his hand had smoothed up only moments before, was a revelation. Pinned by his eyes she couldn't move, but they lacked curiosity or disdain. There was only need there, and the veins of red almost black in the dim the moonlight.

She was falling up as the claw moved lower and lower, raising blood in it's wake, a trail of heat blooming behind it. A steady beat, her pulse, echoed in her ears as his weight over her became heavier, more solid, warm. Her moan echoed through the small clearing as he wound a path down her thigh and over her calf. The crimson veins in his eyes bled over, eclipsing the gold and pulling her in. His iris became a brilliant turquoise, starkly contrasting the darkness of the red.

When he stopped, he stared down at her as if he was coolly, calmly certain of what he would do next, and she shivered at the thought.

“Did that please you?”

Unable to find words to coherently express just how much pleasure she had felt, she nodded dumbly.

“It was my pleasure.”

As he had every time before, he made his exit, leaving her behind to question her sanity.

____________________________________

 

She wore pants after that, completely forgoing shorts or skirts, however, there was a problem. The only pants she had were the red hakama miko wore. Inu Yasha's opinion was made very clear. He hated the sight of her in the white kimono and red hakama that marked her as a priestess. His reasons were obvious, and she accepted them with a resigned sigh. There was little she could do.

Despite it having been only a week since Sesshoumaru had informed her of his own tastes, she found herself wondering more and more about him, losing herself more and more to her own inner musings. His questions made a perfect sort of sense in the context of his admission, and she felt badly for being so vague, now that she understood.

She also couldn't help but feel intrigued. After all, he was her compliment, and while they'd never been friends before, and she wasn't so sure they ever would be, she couldn't help -but- to entertain the idea of experiencing something more with him. Which, she acknowledged, was stupid, even if he had initiated something. If he actually had.

Her own friends didn't seem to notice her withdrawal into her own world. Sango and Miroku were both still wrapped up in each other, and Shippou and Inu Yasha were annoying each other to the point of almost hourly arguments, each of which ended with an absent minded 'sit' mumbled as she continued on.

Each night she looked to the moon, counting down the days to the next moonless night, wondering if he was going to summon her again, or if he was going to leave her alone.

He didn't wait that long, however.

When she felt the wisps of his youki, Inu Yasha was still very much a hanyou, and she wondered why he couldn't feel or smell his brother nearby.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” She mumbled, standing and brushing off the back of her red hakama. Still miffed by an earlier sitting, he ignored her completely as she stole into the woods. The moon was almost full, and it's light shone down through the cheers, making her path easier. When she found him, he was standing near a small brook, eyes to the sky above him.

“Yes?” She asked, forgoing pleasantries.

“Come with me,” He rumbled. A cloud whispered into existence, forming itself from his youki. Without pause she stepped onto it, almost falling over the side as it lifted into the air.

“Where are we going?”

“The hanyou was following you. We will go where he cannot.”

She wondered what that meant. They were silent as they rode through the sky, high above where even Inu Yasha could reach. Shivering from the cold, she knelt on the cloud and hugged herself, trying to will some warmth into her skin. It felt like an hour before they began their descent, and when they touched down, she looked around, trying to figure out where he had taken her.

“Come,” He commanded. Once again, she followed without hesitation, curiosity and a thrill of need driving her. She didn't have long to wait for her answer, because he led her to a set of stairs, which in turn led to a small house. It was certainly smaller than what she had imagined him living in.

“What is this place?” She murmured as he slid open a door and led her into the building. It was one room, large for what it was, with two long screens sectioning off each end.

He said nothing, but led her to the center of the room where a basin was built into the floor, obviously for a fire.

“Undress.”

“Now what just a minute-” She began, her world tilting on it's axis as she repeated the command over and over in her head. “You can't think-”

“I will not try to rut with you,” He growled, as if her words were an insult. “There is something I wish to do.”

“I got that,” She snapped, anxiety giving her words a hysterical edge. “But you can't just tell me to strip without explanation and expect me to.”

His answer was to turn away and walk over to one of the sectioned off areas of the room. She heard something clicking and then he was walking from behind the screen, a box in hand. She watched him, frightened and curious.

“These are a curiosity my father brought back from another land, with many stories,” He intoned, handing her the box. With shaking fingers she opened the lid, almost dropping the box when she saw what was inside.

“You want to use these?” She whispered, eyes still glued to the shimmering contents. She swallowed thickly, her heart hammering it's way up into her chest at the very idea, the thought of the glimmering, heavy gold jewelry adorning her. “But-”

“I am curious to see if they look as he described.”

Somehow she doubted that was it, even his tone sounded defensive, and his posture was stiff, frozen.

“But, I mean, this isn't sanitary, or even safe-”

“Sanitary?”

“Clean. In my time, things like this are required to be sterile, completely clean. Using these-”

The box was out of her hands and back in his, lid tightly closed. His mouth was a thin, compressed line. Once again his eyes were hard, cold.

“I can bring back things from my time, very much like those,” She blurted as he was turning away. “Safer.”

“A strange word to use, given the context.”

“I'm a little weird,” She huffed. “Not suicidal.”

He made a noise that expressed how little he believed that particular statement, which she chose to ignore.

“I'm going home soon, maybe in the next couple of days. I can bring some back. And-” Here she paused, wondering at the wisdom of her idea. After all, it would be tricky, and if anything went awry, there would be more than just some explaining necessary, all of which would be stuck on her. Not something she wanted to chance.

“And?”

“I can come back early, so we don't have to worry about Inu Yasha trying to find me.”

She knew the danger in the idea, but she also knew that he wouldn't care, because none of the danger implicated him, not really. At worst he would be seen with a human female, and he had already taken Rin into his care. No one would even guess what they really were doing, and she knew that was perhaps the only thing that he would be worried about.

“As you say,” He agreed at last, nodding his assent. “I will only require your presence for a night, perhaps a day.”

She had a feeling she would need a lot longer than that to recover, but nodded anyway, already refining her plan with a reckless, heady rush of anticipation.

“Can you take me back?” She asked, too wrapped up in her own plan to notice his eyes narrow. It was only when he began advancing on her that she stepped back, aware that he had brought her to his home for a purpose.

“No,” She said, bringing both hands up to her chest as she shook her head. “You'll have to decide. If you do anything now, I won't be able to do anything when I get back.”

He stopped, looking an equal mix chagrined and disappointed. It was a strangely human expression on him, almost endearing.

“Why?”

“My friend, someone like me, told me that I have to give my body time to heal, or else I could harm myself.”

“Harm?”

“He said there's hurt and harm. Hurting is okay for us. Harm is dangerous, more than my body can deal with at once.”

He seemed to understand the distinction, the emotion in his eyes fading as he nodded.

“When I go through the well, I'll come back the next day at dusk. Does that sound okay?”

He nodded again.

The entire way back to the small stream she was going over the details of her plan, trying to find holes so that she could fix it. Any mishap and the entire thing would come falling down around her ears, and she wasn't sure her friendships could survive such a catastrophe.

____________________________________

 

Breathless, she climbed up the vines of the well. After several difficult minutes -her whole body trembled with nervous anxiety and heady anticipation- she made it to the top, and it was with an iron will that she kept from casting out her senses to look for the daiyoukai. Any hint of her presence and Inu Yasha would come running, which was the last thing she wanted.

He stepped into the clearing, face an impassive mask. His eyes flicked over her person, resting on the purse she had hanging over her shoulder. She nodded, flushing deeply when she thought about the contents. His cloud whispered into existence, and she stepped on and sat, hugging the purse to her chest.

Once again they traveled to the small home, and she nervously chattered the whole way, not caring that he didn't deign to reply or comment. When they arrived, he forwent the stairs in favor of landing next to the small home itself. True night was beginning to fall, and she could swear she heard the ocean in the distance.

“Are we close to the sea?” She murmured.

“Yes. This was my father's retreat from the shiro. Now it is mine.”

She wondered if he had ever brought anyone with him before, of if he was bringing her so that he could avoid being seen with her. After all, as a retreat she doubted very many people knew about it. Once inside, he closed the door behind them and she looked around the dark room, wondering if he could see in the almost perfect darkness.

“I'll need light,” She admitted. “To show you what I brought and explain it to you.”

Light flickered to being in the palm of his hand, and he walked over to the basin in the center of the room. A fire roared to life, casting inky shadows around the floor and up the walls. Hoping she didn't offend him, she walked over to a lantern by the door opposite the one they had entered and brought it to the fire. He seemed to understand and walked behind one of the screen walls and came back with two more. Those were lit and place in a semicircle around them as she sat and began pulling things out of the large tote.

He watched, saying nothing as she pulled out a roll of paper towels, a series of packages, forceps, little bottles and two small boxes.

“This,” She said, showing him one of the bottles, “Is antiseptic. It's to clean your hands and the area you want to pierce. It has a very strong scent, but it will help to keep me from getting an infection.” He opened the bottle and flinched, displeasure evident as he closed it again. She shrugged and gave a small smile as she picked up the forceps.

“The man at the shop said you use these to pinch the skin so it's easier to pierce. You don't have to use them if you don't want to though,” She added, showing him how the forceps clicked together and stayed held shut. “And these,” She said, setting the forceps down and picking up the small box. “Are the needles.”

She opened the box and took one of the small packages out, then opened it, offering the glinting silver needle to him. He took it in his hand, testing the tip and then looking at the end.

“It is hollow.”

“That's so you can feed the jewelry into the end,” She explained, pulling one of the rings from the package. “Like this,” She said, taking the needle from his hand and putting one end of the ring into the tip. “You pull it through like this, so the jewelry goes in without having to fish around. You only use each one once, which is why I-” She stopped, not wanting to finish the statement. 'Bought so many' would just sound...too presumptuous, or too eager.

The cost of the entire set had been painful in and of itself, but she hadn't been able to help herself. The man in the tattoo parlor had looked at her suspiciously until she had lied and told him it was for her and her boyfriend. With a few choice words, most of which had been true, he'd sold the items to her with a knowing smirk and an offer to come by any time if she and her 'boyfriend' didn't work out.

“These seem very simple,” He noted, looking at the plain ring and needle. She sorted through the pile of jewelry and put them into groups. The package she was looking for was the biggest, and she handed it to him wordlessly. It had been the most expensive, the long length found while perusing a craft store for ribbon. Seeing it, she had immediately discarded the idea of using ribbon and spent the majority of her funds on it.

“The work is so uniform,” He commented, yeyes warming as he unraveled the long, decorative chain. “How is it made?”

“That's-” She paused, unsure of how to explain machines to him. “Talented craftsmen.”

It was not the ornate, heavy gold jewelry that had been in the box. There had been no time to find anything like that, not that she hadn't fantasized -just a little bit- about it. She'd even considered letting him use it, but good sense had won out over a singularly pleasant fantasy she was still having problems coming to terms with.

Feeling awkward and shy, she peered up at him, seeing that his gaze was on her.

“Do I need to, I mean-”

“If you wish to continue,” He replied, understanding the mangled question.

Taking his tone as a command -and a sign of impatience- she nodded.

“Could you, you know, go behind the screen?”

He seemed baffled by her request.

“Please, just, I know it sounds stupid.”

He stood and walked away, disappearing behind one of the screens. The minute he was out of sight she was standing and stripping down to the barely there bra she'd bought with this moment in mind -not to entice, but to free the most amount of skin- and the tiny pair of underwear. Being careful of the small piles around her, she folded the pants and shirt she had worn and sat them away from the fire.

“I'm finished,” She called out, quickly sitting and bringing her legs to her chest, hugging them tightly. The gravity of the situation she was in was settling down on her, a heavy mantle of seriousness that damped the anticipation into worry. But he was coming closer, she could feel him at her back as he sat or knelt behind her, she wasn't sure which.

He didn't ask her if she was ready, or if she was having second thoughts. Instead, she felt the cold of the antiseptic on her back as he smoothed it over her skin. Next she heard a small package tear open, and readied herself.

The forceps pinched her skin tightly, sending a thrill through her, making her shudder as he clicked them closed. A needle followed, the sensation of it piercing through the flesh, first going in and then going out, sending a haze of white over her vision. The fire became brighter, glowed hotter as he released the forceps, closed the jewelry and began a new piercing.

Each moment of waiting, the breathless second between the pinch of the forceps and the first stab of the needle became an eternity. The heat increased until her blood felt like it was boiling into nothing but energy, liquid light in her veins as he worked his way down her back. Her breath escaped in pants as he made a another, then closed the ring.

She didn't protest as he repositioned her, making her sit with her legs crossed. After he had finished posing her, doll like, he began again, rubbing the antiseptic gel over her arm. Neither of them spoke, but when she looked at his face, a mask of fierce concentration and need, she noticed his eyes were bleeding red, the cold turquoise of his iris contrasting vividly, drawing her into it.

She spiraled deep into the cool, forgiving blueness of his eyes, alternating between feverish and cold as he continued down the line of her arm, and then moved to begin on the other. Beneath the skin, her blood swirled and pumped loudly, and she was surprised by the sight of it around from the piercings. Dimly she knew it was supposed to be red, but she was amazed that it was, that it wasn't glowing or seeping into the sky.

When he was done, he pushed her back, until she was laying on her back, unabashedly moaning. Not in the least concerned when he cut the bra down the center with a claw, she ignored the small voice in the back of her head that protested what she knew was coming, instead embracing the other voice that whispered seductively to give in.

The flash of cold accompanied by the heavy pressure of the needle entering one side of her nipple brought tears to her eyes, but it was nothing compared to the agony of the needle pushing through the other side. Despite feeling as if she were floating slightly above her body, the pain vibrated through her, pushing and pulling with her blood. Somewhere she heard the sound of someone sobbing and moaning, and realized it was her.

Uncaring of what he thought of her, her arms snaked over her head and searched for something to hold onto. Finding nothing, she tangled her restless fingers in her hair as he released the forceps and blood rushed back to the area. The throbbing pain doubled, sending jagged bolts of lust shooting down her belly and to her sex. Her legs clamped together, slid, offering tantalizing moments of friction.

His palm was hot on her stomach as he pushed her back down the floor, trying to still her writhing as her hips twitched and she arched into the welcome heat, savoring the rough friction of his palm on her stomach.

“Be still,” He commanded, voice rough.

“Hot, everywhere's so hot,” She keened, pressing against his hand. The edges of her vision were drowned in white, and the firelight on his white hair and clothing seemed to grow until he was haloed by the flames themselves. In the flickering shadows his eyes glowed bright red, any trace of gold long lost to the crimson suffusing them.

“Be still,” He commanded again, pushing her down firmly and moving his hand away. Missing the contact, she inhaled deeply, trying to drag in air that only seemed to make her more and more lightheaded.

The forceps clamped down tightly on her other nipple, the pinch not nearly enough sensation for her overheated flesh. Trying not to move, she watched him pull out another needle and thread the ring into the tip. Biting her lip, she kept from making a sound as she watched him bring it closer.

If the first nipple had been agony, the second was ecstasy as he pushed it through. On the other side of a deep chasm she heard a scream echoing as the darkness rose up to meet her, wrapping her in warm silk. Curiously weightless, she inhaled and exhaled, her fingertips numb and her chest feeling strangely warm.

When she finally opened her eyes, the fire around him had grown. It occurred to her that it wasn't the fire, but his youki that she was seeing, and she wondered in a dim, dazed sort of way, if he was as strangely affected as she was. That he was looking down at her as if he was going to devour her, body and soul, didn't bother her at all. If anything it sent another trill of excitement through her overstimulated body.

“You respond-” He began, then stopped as she blinked up at him sleepily, as if drugged.

“Thank you,” She whispered, voice slurring over the words. He said nothing, merely watched her until the drowsiness took over. It was on the tip of her tongue to say she was sorry they hadn't finished, but just as she was going to say it, her eyes closed and the darkness encompassed her.

____________________________________

 

When she came to, she was lying on a soft futon tangled in a blanket. Not remembering how she got there, she sat up and flinched, the rings and bars in her skin moving with the flesh strangely, almost as if they were being tugged. Looking down, she saw her arm dotted sporadically with small bars and rings, and smiled as she examined them. The night before came back to her in a rush of images, each one more vibrant than the last.

Standing, she listed uncertainly as she tried to wrap the blanket around her chest. The rings in her nipples brushed the fabric and fresh pain bloomed in their wake. Forcing the sensation down, she gathered the blanket in one hand and held the top up with her other. Shuffling quietly, she emerged from behind the screen and saw the materials from the night before still scattered.

Sesshoumaru was nowhere in sight.

A small, niggling thread of guilt cut through her as she looked at the length of light chain lying in a pile. Grabbing it, she made for the door, hoping he was still in the area. Luckily, he was sitting on the veranda, staring into the distance.

Feeling shy after the intimacy of the night before, she knelt next to him, unsure of what to say next.

“Is it normal to sleep for such a long time after such activities?” He asked at last.

“I suppose,” She murmured, looking at the sun's position. She guessed that it was midday at least, perhaps a little later. If Inu Yasha had gotten impatient, he would have gone to her mother only to find that she had gone to a friend's house for the night. Which was only sort of a lie, if she didn't consider Sesshoumaru a friend.

She had no idea what to call him now.

“We didn't finish,” She sighed, fingering the light chain nervously.

“It means little.”

“No!” She gasped, turning to him, blue eyes wide with shock. “Last night, what you did,” She stuttered, feeling even more guilty than she had before. “I'm sorry we couldn't finish. But I'd like to,” She added, holding the chain out to him. “If nothing else, I owe you that much.”

He was looking at her as if she'd said something stupid, and her hand fell, was almost to her lap when he took the chain from it. Eyes curiously blank, he shook the chain out of it's gathered pile until it was a long, single length and slipped it through one of the rings in her arms.

She waited patiently, turning her back to him when he had finished the arm. The blanket slipped down and she bent forward, enjoying the pull of the piercings against her flesh and losing herself in the rhythmic sound of the chain tinkling against the metal of the rings and bars. His hand pulled on her shoulder, and she turned again, letting him finish weaving the chain around her arm. It draped and jingled lightly, and she wondered what his youkai hearing perceived as she moved.

Without being told, she stood, letting the blanket hang on her hips before dropping it completely. Ignoring the strange feeling of being watched intently, she stepped from the veranda onto the grass, luxuriating in the feel of it beneath her feet. Feeling washed in careless joy, she spun, raising her hands to the sky and tilting her head back, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine. Unrestrained laughter mixed with the sound of the chain jangling as she spun, making herself dizzy.

When she could no longer stand, she plopped down onto the grass and hugged her knees to her chest, still giggling lightly.

“You are happy,” He observed from his spot on the veranda.

“I am,” She sighed, falling back onto the grass, feeling each blade prick her back. “I never knew it was like this.”

“Like what?”

“Freeing. Exhilarating. Junpei hinted at how wonderful it could be, but he never told me it was like this.”

“Junpei?”

“He's like me. He found someone to compliment him, his partner.”

“You will have to leave soon.”

The statement was as abrupt as it was unwelcome. Standing, she walked over, covering her chest from his gaze. His gaze had hardened once more, nothing but cool apathy reflecting in the golden orbs.

“I'll need help taking them out,” She sighed, wrapping the blanket around her chest. He said nothing, but walked back inside. She followed, feeling as if she were leaving the sunshine mentally as well as physically.

He carefully removed the chain, and then began work on first one arm, then her back, all the while remaining silent. When he had taken the last out of her second arm, he paused, eyes moving to her still covered chest.

“I, I think I'll keep these, if that's alright.”

His head tilted to one side, just a fraction, barely noticeable, except that she was watching him as intently as he was watching her. A small nod was his only response before he opened one of the antiseptic bottles and squirting some into his hand. She allowed him to smooth it over her back, but did her arms herself, feeling more exposed than she had the night before. As she did, he left, only motioning toward the pile of clothes on the floor.

Her pants were not a problem. The shirt was though. Her breasts ached as she slid the fabric over them, the entire process feeling as if it had taken a small eternity to accomplish. Looking back down to the items scattered on the floor, she put all of the used needles in the small sharps container and put the empty wrappers in her purse, but that was it. Leaving the rest by the small basin, she stepped back outside, a sad smile dancing on her lips as she took in the sight of the daiyoukai, once more his cold, formal self.

“I'm ready.”

The ride back was as silent as the ride to his small retreat, and she couldn't help but feel that something had changed, and not for the better. Sometime between her careless twirling as she savored the feel of the metal on and in her skin and her blithe admission that there was someone like her he had changed, walled himself off.

When she stepped off of his cloud, she turned, wanting to ask if she would see him again, which was silly, because she would. But she wasn't sure if she would see him for _their_ reason.

The question however, died on her lips. He was nothing more than a bright ball of youki streaking across the sky, leaving her behind, alone.

____________________________________

 

 

With a sigh of pleasure she slipped into the hot spring, already enjoying the feel of the warmth seeping into her skin and muscles. For over a week she'd abstained from getting into the natural waters around her, opting instead to bathe with water from water bottles. Finally free to enjoy the warm, if somewhat smelly springs that dotted the area, she moved further into the water, tipping herself so that she could float on her back.

The holes in her skin had healed without any problems, and only little pink puckered marks were left to show that anything at all had happened.

Well, that and the two piercings she had kept. Even though they still proved to uncomfortable from time to time, she enjoyed the reminder, and the sight of them still awed her, when she had to opportunity to look.

“Whoohoo!” A voice shouted, just as there was a loud splash. Dunking into the water, her arms automatically went over her breasts as extra cover while Sango and Shippou made their way over to her.

“Kagome!” Sango greeted. “Why didn't you tell us you were coming?”

“Um, no reason, you know. Just, uh, thought you were busy.”

The lie stumbled off of her tongue, and for a moment she was afraid Sango was going to challenge her. Her words were obviously a lie, and she knew the taijiya could tell. However, hoping that perhaps it was Shippou's presence that kept her from saying anything, she ducked further into the water, wishing a whirlpool would swirl into existence and suck her into it.

“It's been forever since we had time away from the guys. I needed to ask you for something,” The taijiya admitted, eying the kitsune that swam and burbled happily in the water near them.

“More of the you-know-whats?” Kagome guessed shrewdly, brow raised. The taijiya blushed and nodded, shrugging helplessly. “It's fine,” She assured her friend. “I'm just glad you guys are using them. A baby would be pretty bad right now.”

“It would. I still find it strange that your time uses, well-”

“Sex is a lot more accepted in my time,” She giggled. “Besides, you guys have been mooning at each other for years. It was going to happen sooner or later. Better safe than sorry.”

Sango was quiet for several tense moments, and she could tell the woman wanted to say something.

“Out with it.”

“Have you thought about, using them with, you know, you and Inu Yasha?” Sango asked, blushing heavily. “Or are you already-”

“No,” She gasped, then slammed both hands over her mouth, cheeks heating up, shocked with how much vehemence she had denied the questions. Since accepting her own deviant desires, any of her crush on the hanyou had died without even a whimper. Instinctively she knew -knew- the hanyou wouldn't be able to do the things she had done with his brother, and the intimacy she had experienced with Sesshoumaru, whether or not he was ever going to try again with her, was something she knew -with just as much certainty- that she wouldn't be happy without.

“Kagome-”

“Inu Yasha and I, we aren't suited to each other,” She sighed, running her hands through her hair, tangling the wet mass. “Besides, I look like I'm older than him now,” She muttered. It was another tick that had bothered her, one that she was glad she no longer had to worry about. In the years since coming to the feudal era, her hanyou friend hadn't aged at all, physically or emotionally, whereas she had.

“Kagome-”

“He's a wonderful person, but I think we've changed too much,” She hedged.

“Kagome-”

“Huh?”

“What are those?” Sango asked, eyes cast down. Looking down, she followed her friend's line of vision and bent down until she was submerged up to her shoulders. The warm water did nothing to cool her face however.

“Uhm-”

“Those look- Kagome, what are they?”

“Part of a ritual?” She squeaked, flinching when that was all she could come up with.

“Ritual? I've never even heard of a ritual that does, whatever that is!”

“It's a rite, passage into womanhood and all that.”

“You told me that your time considers a female a woman when she turns twenty.”

“I did it late because I'm always here,” She groaned, sinking even deeper into the water, hating to lie even as she said it. Sango was her confidante, the one person she _never_ lied to. But how was she supposed to explain that the piercings were a reminder of the first time she'd ever been intimate with someone, with Sesshoumaru no less?

“Are they really, I mean, women of your time really do that?”

“Some,” She answered. “There's different things. These are one.”

“Your people sound barbaric,” The taijiya sniffed. “My village had rites of passage, but that was hunting and getting your marks.”

“Marks?”

“You've never seen mine?” The taijiya asked, blinking obliquely.

“No-ooo.”

She watched her friend step over to to the shallows of the spring, back to her. When Sango was only waist deep, she lifted her hair, exposing the lines of her back.

“Is that a tattoo?” Kagome murmured, examining the broken, raised lines resting high on the woman's back. If it was, it was ill made, the lines irregular and bumpy.

“No,” The taijiya snapped, turning back to her with a frown. “Only criminals get tattoos.”

“Then how-”

“Our head man makes the mark with a knife, and rubs ash into it. Each slayer village has a different mark. Ours is, was, the mark of the sun,” She explained as she came back, slowly submerging herself in the warm water.

Kagome shuddered, but not with any sort of pleasure. The idea of rubbing ash into a wound was not appealing in the least, and she was in awe that Sango hadn't developed some kind of infection. Besides that, the mark itself was irregular and clumsy, probably from the skin rejecting the ash itself.

“What kind of ash?”

“The cremated remains of our kill,” The taijiya answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Kagome gagged.

“It's natural, and has meaning. How do your people do that?”

“They use needles and feed the jewelry through,” She admitted, grateful to think about something besides youkai ash being rubbed into wounds. “It's just what it is. Yours has meaning, right?” Sango nodded, although Kagome could still see the doubt in her eyes. “Well, mine has meaning to me,” She added firmly, trying not to blush. “Some people in my time get tattoos, although not many, and others get piercings. It's just what some people choose to do.”

“And you chose that?”

Choosing hadn't exactly come up at that point and time, but she hadn't tried to stop it either. Knowing her face was imitating a small sun, she nodded anyway, unable to stop the small smile.

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes.” She left it at that, still unable to explain her unique condition to the taijiya. After all, it was another world, for all she knew, people like her were considered possessed or some such thing. Unable to bear the thought of Sango thinking like that or even coming to hate her was more than enough to keep her silent. The oppressive feeling had lessened though, and she wondered if it was because she shared her secret now, or if it was just the freedom of finally having that craving momentarily satisfied.

“Inu Yasha, does he know?”

“About these, no,” She stuttered.

“Not about those, about well, you know.”

“I don't think so,” She sighed. “I don't think it matters much though, you know? He's still so wrapped up in Kikyo's memory. And it's okay, you know? I get it.”

“You're being awfully forgiving,” Sango murmured thoughtfully, moving to the shallows and sitting down. She followed, sitting across from her friend as Shippou continued swimming nearby, sensing their need for privacy.

“You only think that because if Miroku was pining for someone else you'd bludgeon both him and the other person. But Inu Yasha was like this when we met, so I'm used to it. Besides, I'm different now.”

“You are,” Sango agreed. “You and Inu Yasha don't argue as much, and after years of traveling together, it's odd that it just disappeared.”

Kagome shrugged, unable to formulate a response to that. She had changed more noticeably in the last several weeks, and she knew that denying it would only serve to heighten the taijiya's curiosity. Shrugging it off seemed the only option.

“You said there are other rituals,” Sango began, voice laced with honest curiosity. “What kinds?”

With much self censoring, Kagome began telling her of some of the things people in her time did.

____________________________________

 


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimers apply, I don't own Inu Yasha.

____________________________________

He allowed a week to pass before she felt the tendrils of his yoki beckoning to her. Still tired from her ordeal with Hitomiko, she stumbled from her sleeping bag and into the forest, thankful that her companions were asleep. The events of the night before clung to her, making her restless. His call was a welcome distraction from her own chaotic thoughts.

As she limped through the wood, she was surprised when she saw him walking towards her, gold eyes reflecting the moon. When they were only a few feet apart from one another she stopped and nodded her greeting, staying silent.

“You have been injured,” He murmured, his clawed hand coming up to her chin and forcing her head to tilt to the side. A band-aid only partially covered a long cut made by the undead miko.

“It's nothing,” She sighed, pulling her chin away.

“You're lying.”

It was a quiet command, but no less demanding for it's softness. His cloud whispered into existence, and grateful for the reprieve from walking she got on, trying to ignore muscles still angry from their earlier abuse.

“We came across a priestess Naraku murdered. He was manipulating her body, and kept her spirit from leaving it,” She finally admitted, hugging her knees to her body. “I ended up facing her alone.”

“You were unable to defeat the hanyou.”

“I did, in a way I suppose. She died in my arms.”

“You said she was a corpse.”

“But she was still there,” She mumbled, feeling the tears that had wanted to escape burn her eyes. “He tried to force me into destroying her and damning her, literally. It would have opened me to his attacks.”

The memories she had forced back returned with a vengeance. The events of the night had been anything but kind. Perhaps the worst had been the woman smiling as she had passed, as if she was thankful.

“She was lonely. She hated fighting all the time. Every priestess I've met has only wanted to be a normal woman, to lead a normal life.”

“Then they waste their time. Those born with spiritual powers will never lead a normal life,” He intoned quietly. “Power sets one apart from other, and strength elevates them above the rest of the world.”

She thought of her own power, and it's strangeness, and of Hitomiko's declaration. Something, or someone, had sealed her powers, locking them away and preventing her from accessing them. And that she was powerful, more than even she knew. The idea that she was strong was as much of a mystery to herself as the miko had claimed to find her.

Then she looked up at his profile, sighing as she ran a hand through her hair. He would know better than anyone the price of being powerful, of being strong. He hadn't said a thing about loneliness, but she wondered if he was. Or maybe he had walled that part of himself off. After all, humans only had so much time to live, and few would succeed at learning to completely ignore their own needs in that short period. But he was a daiyoukai, he would have had centuries to perfect the art of apathy.

The thought depressed her even more as she contemplated him from behind the fringe of her bangs.

When they landed, she limped behind him, favoring the foot that had not twisted painfully when landing in the spiderwebs twenty four hours before. He seemed not to notice as she used one of the wooden columns to help herself onto the veranda. Once inside, the fire burst into life in it's basin and she walked over to it, trying to hide the signs of her injury.

The moment was incredibly awkward. She shifted from one foot to another, hugging herself as she waited for him to say something. However, he chose to remain silent, and she wondered if the awkwardness was what normal people felt after the first time they slept together.

“Show me,” He rumbled quietly, finally breaking the tense silence.

Quietly she began removing her clothes beneath his cool gaze, feeling a hundred times more exposed than she had during their previous encounter. Her shirt came off first to expose long arms littered with cuts and bruises, then her jeans, showing legs in even worse shape. She chose to keep on her bra and boy shorts, figuring he wouldn't want her naked.

“You are in no condition for such activities,” He told her, his voice completely void of any emotion as he turned and began walking back to the door.

“Please,” She mumbled, hugging her body. “I need, just-” And the tears began, falling quietly as she tried to keep her voice even, although her words wobbled dangerously.

“She didn't even want to hurt me. She kept trying to tell me about my power, how to save her. I need something to cover these, to make them less,” She admitted, the last coming out as whimper. “I'll be fine, I promise.”

He regarded her silently for several minutes before walking over and folding his legs gracefully below him. With a relieved sigh she sat, bringing her knees to her chest.

“You arm,” He commanded. She brought it up, trying not to look at the angry cuts and ugly bruises dotting the pale flesh. He made a small noise, almost a sigh, but it was lost in the anxious beating of her pulse and the sound of the fire next to them.

“The other.”

She showed it to him, and he looked at it then shook his head.

“You are too injured.”

“Please,” She whispered. “My back should be fine.” Without being told to, she turned her back to him and hunched over, letting him see the expanse of flesh. She knew there was at least one bruise, although it wasn't bad. Out of everything, her back had come out mostly unscathed, which she supposed she was thankful for. His hand fumbled with her bra strap for a moment before it came open, making her shiver.

The first cut was as cold as ice, contrasting sharply with the warmth of her skin. Heat followed in it's wake, trailing down as his claw made a path. Almost as if he was creating art, he was slow, methodical as he drug the pointed tip over her skin. When it lifted, she moved back, hoping to find the touch again.

Tears escaped, continuing down her cheeks and onto her knees, which her head rested upon. She remembered the miko' loneliness, and wondered if she was doomed to the same fate. The heat of her blood rising to the surface and trickling down her back made it easier to slip into a strange state of half awareness, where the world frayed at the edges.

The woman's eyes as she'd died -was it dying if she was already dead?- had been warm, content. And yet she hadn't lived a full life. There had been tastes bitterness and anger, longing and despair. Hitomiko had been a woman bound by duty, by her powers, just like Kikyo.

She cried for the two women that had died young and for the normal lives they'd wanted to have. Quiet sniffs were lost in the noise of the flames, and she didn't consider his youkai senses at all. Instead she hugged herself more tightly and grieved for the two women, for herself, and for the daiyoukai carefully marking her back, giving her pain freely instead of being forced.

She cried especially for him, because he was a daiyoukai, because he was a lord, and because she felt that his circumstances were even more tragic than those of her own kind. His power would always set him apart, as well as his desires, and she knew he would be cautious of revealing the truth to anyone. Even allowing her to know had come after one twist of fate and her own carelessness. In the end, he had centuries to endure, hiding behind a mask of propriety and strength.

“You are not pleased,” He murmured quietly.

“No,” She admitted, shaking her head, which felt light and empty suddenly, as if air had replaced her brain. “I'm sorry.”

“I thought pain brought you pleasure.” It was an accusation, all the more striking for it's detached, cool delivery.

“It usually does,” She admitted. “But it gave me something more tonight,” She sighed, feeling very tired. Darkness dimmed the edges of her vision, and she felt that she would finally be able to sleep without seeing Kikyo and Hitomiko's sad, resigned smiles as they died.

“What?” He finally asked, a hint of true curiosity mingling with a touch of bewilderment.

“Release.”

____________________________________

When she awoke, she was back at her camp, on top of her sleeping bag and sleeping face down. Knowing that he had somehow managed to sneak her back into camp without the others knowing, she stood and stretched, smiling at the pull of her knitting skin. The sun was just beginning to rise, and she walked to the nearby stream with a small cup and toothbrush feeling lighter than she had the day before.

After going through her solitary morning routine, she walked back to camp, feeling more buoyant with each step she took until she arrived, finding the hanyou shuffling through her bag.

“Inu Yasha, what are you doing?” She snapped, rushing over and pulling her bag from his grasping hands. He glared up at her through his bangs, blowing them out of the way impatiently.

“I was hungry,” He muttered.

“Did it ever occur to you to be patient?”

The morning only got worse from there. Despite her triumph over Naraku's plan before, already he was back to treating her as a useless member of their group, good for little more than cooking food and finding shards. And as far as she could tell, Naraku had almost all of the shards, excepting Kohaku's -which didn't count since he had the boy under his control- and the two she kept next to her heart. However, the hanyou refused to believe it, and had them scouring the countryside in search of any last, elusive pieces.

In the end, she walked next to Sango, trying to ignore the dirty looks being sent her way by their erstwhile leader. Right up until the presence near them came barreling at them with inhuman speed. Sensing the youki bearing down on them, she caught the bow Sango tossed to her and slung her quiver over her shoulder, already notching one of the arrows.

The demon was as simple minded as it was large, and it wanted her shards.

It also possessed insanely thick skin, a sort of hardened natural armor that even Inu Yasha had a hard time cutting. Her arrows flew and lodged in the thick casing, crackling and bursting in a brilliant display of light. When the light faded, only a small crack had been made. Determined to prove her usefulness, she aimed for the same spot again and again, hoping to create a gap in the armor for Inu Yasha to aim at.

The din of battle rose and crashed around her as the youkai's giant arms swept the ground, knocking Sango into the field on the side of the rough road. The bone boomerang fell to the ground, and the taijiya made no move for it.

“Everyone, move back!” Miroku called out, unwinding the beads from around his palm. Running over to him she grabbed his arm and shook her head, hoping to convey the demand with a look as she turned, another arrow already notched and ready to fly.

The youkai, taking advantage of her momentary distraction, or perhaps only having good timing, knocked her back with it's gigantic hand, the tree sized fingers connecting solidly with her middle and sending her hurtling towards Sango.

'Don't let me break anything, don't let me break anything,' She prayed as she began her descent, eyes clenched shut so she couldn't anticipate the landing itself. With a solid thud she landed against something soft and hard. Opening her eyes, she was greeted with the sight of a large metal spike. And another. And another.

“Oh Kami,” She muttered, looking up at Sesshoumaru's face. She had been two inches away from losing an eye, or something even more important, to the spikes on the daiyoukai's pauldron.

“You are still injured,” He rumbled as he set her down on the ground next to Sango. In the next instant he was gone, and she watched from a distance as he crashed into the giant, his claws neatly severing it's head from it's body. Acid dripped from the tips, hitting the body and eroding the flesh it touched until there was nothing but bone.

“You didn't have to fucking do that!” Inu Yasha shouted as the daiyoukai walked away, ignoring the hanyou piling epithets on his head. “Asshole!” The harangue continued long after the daiyoukai was out of sight, going from angry to bordering on hysterical.

Choosing to emulate the daiyoukai's silence, she walked over to Sango and helped her up. The taijiya had a nasty bruise on her face, and said her ribs hurt, but she could breath easily, indicating no serious damage. Walking back over to the pile of bones and the still fuming hanyou, she picked up her bow and shouldered it like a bag.

“That was strange,” Miroku commented in an offhand manner as Shippou came from his hiding spot and hopped into her waiting arms.

“What was?” Sango mumbled, gingerly feeling the bruise forming on her face.

“Sesshoumaru-sama came to our aid. He was the one that destroyed the youkai.”

“Fucker didn't need to do it. Just showing off,” Inu Yasha muttered sullenly.

Kagome couldn't help but be a bit grateful for the hanyou's anger. After all, as long as he was so angry at his half brother for his interference, he wasn't thinking about  _why_ he had interfered.

____________________________________

 

In the course of a week they came upon him twice, killing youkai that were directly in their paths. Both times Inu Yasha had shouted and cursed and generally acted childish while the elder brother had walked away, completely apathetic to said noise and insults. Both times she wondered if he was following them, protecting her, or if Japan really was that small.

Logic told her that he was following because they had the best chance of encountering Naraku. After all, the pseudo hanyou wanted them all to be as miserable as possible and the daiyoukai had a score to settle with him. However, there was a small, childishly optimistic part of herself that hoped, even daydreamed wistfully, that he was protecting her. Strange their odd little relationship might be, but it  _was_  a relationship of sorts. Perhaps a very limited one, but he'd never gone out of his way to protect them before. Maybe now...

When they were close to the well again several days later, she told Inu Yasha she needed to return home. He made the usual complaints, the argument growing so heated she had to sit him several times. With a disdainful sniff she left him behind with the others, riding Kirara to gain some distance before he could free himself of the geis.

When she stopped in the clearing, he was waiting for her.

“Sesshoumaru,” She breathed, eyes widening. She slipped down off of Kirara and looked into the firecat's wide red eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose softly.

“Don't tell the others, please?” She whispered. The firecat nodded her understanding, muscles cording and bunching as she prepared herself for flight. In a rush of wind she was in the air. Headed in the direction of the group. Turning back to Sesshoumaru, she tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled warmly.

“Come with me,” He rumbled quietly, the cloud of youki already swirling into existence. Ignoring the part of herself that screamed at her, telling her she had no plan in place, that Inu Yasha could go to her time and find her not there without explanation, that her mother would worry, she climbed on and sat, crossing her legs and holding her bag in her lap.

“The well is your way home,” He murmured.

“To my time,” She agreed. They had touched on the subject before, although she'd never gone into detail.

“Tell me about the future,” He commanded.

Before, she'd only told him about people like themselves, that being the only relevant thing she could bring up. But with a thousand, no, million different topics to choose from, she started with a basic concept, electricity, and built from there.

He listened intently the entire time, face a mask of thoughtful consideration as she told him about cars, light bulbs, and microwaves. Whenever he tilted his head just so, she took that as a need for further explanation, and used every piece of knowledge she had gained in school to try and break it down for him.

As carefully as she explained the concept of a bullet train, she avoided mention of youkai. They did exist in her time, that much she knew, she could feel them from time time. It was highly unlikely however, that he would appreciate being told that they had found ways to blend in and hide their presence from the unwary human populace that had grown and taken over the world.

When they landed, it was still afternoon, and she walked up the stairs to the small house. He watched her carefully, and she was proud when she moved without evidence of a limp. Even her back had mostly healed, and the scars he had inflicted had been deeper than any Hitomiko had given her. For the first time, when she stepped inside, he didn't light a fire or the lanterns.

The sun made everything feel different, although how she couldn't quite put her finger on. Or perhaps it was the events of the past week. Each time he had saved them, she had felt him lingering nearby, as if stalking them. She flattered herself to think that perhaps he had been following her, protecting her.

Without being asked, she began to remove her clothes, slipping off her socks and pants, then her shirt, leaving her in nothing but her bikini panties. Her last bra had been dirty, and she couldn't bear to wear it. Feeling oddly decadent beneath his gaze as she stepped away from the smile pile, she brought her arms to cover her chest, blushing lightly.

“You have not taken them out,” He observed as he came closer. She shook her head, blushing even more hotly. The jewelry in question still sent a thrill through her every time she looked down while in a hot spring, and it had made a certain few private moments very enjoyable. Not that she was going to admit to it aloud.

His hand pulled her arm away, and the other fell to her side willingly, letting him see the steel jewelry glinting in the light. Beneath his intense stare her nipples felt harder, more sensitive to the light air currents in the room. Heat pooled in her groin and her knees weakened as he continued staring, walking a small circle around her. His claws brushed against her back as he pushed her hair out the way to examine the marks he had left the week before.

“You heal quickly,” He commented in an offhand manner, earning only a small nod in response. Suddenly her hair tightened painfully, pulling at her scalp and stinging as her head jerked back. Her eyes watered at the unexpected tugging and her breath escaped in a gasp, sounding strange coming from her stretched throat.

Then his grip loosened and his hand came around to the front of her body, over her soft stomach. The floor beneath her feet rocked dangerously as a claw pressed dangerously into her skin, raising a welt in it's wake but never breaking the surface. He was slow, deliberate as he traced patterns on her skin, leaving raised, hypersensitive flesh in his wake, but never drawing blood.

She was almost to the point of begging when his fingers pinched one pierced nipple between two claws and they pressed in. Given no choice but to lean against him or fall to the floor, she let him bear her weight as he continued, moving to the other nipple and then dragging his claws over her skin.

The first tell tale drops of blood began rising to the surface, beading the pale canvas of her skin when she looked down at her chest. Little, almost miniscule drops that slid down for perhaps an inch before congealing into place. His breath was hot in her ear, coming in shorter and shorter puffs as he continued on in that vein, barely cutting into her flesh, drawing her into a slow spiral of lust.

The feel of his silk kimono at her back provided a contrast too sinfully delicious to ignore as it slipped smoothly, coolly, over the healing wounds while his claws left trails of fire in their wake. Her back arched, forcing her into his touch when his attentions skittered over her hip. His breath puffed in warm exhales over her cheek as his hand traveled upward again, further and further. She pressed her legs together, finding a small release in the friction as she slid them against one another.

A snarl escaped when she pressed her bottom to his groin, feeling the hardness of him, his readiness beneath his hakama. The claw traced the column of her throat lightly, and unable to resist the temptation, her hand found it's way beneath the waistband of her panties, sliding through the soft thatch of curls and into the slippery wetness of her slit.

Whirling, dizzying wanton heat ignored shyness and forced the moans that built in her chest past her lips and into the echoing silence of the house. His groin slid against her bottom, inciting another wave of heat as she shamelessly moved against him. Claws pressed into her side, over the scar where the jewel had been torn from her body and dug in, deeper than before. The friction of her fingers strumming her clit combined with the sudden vivid cold of the wounds pushed her over the edge, screaming his name as he snarled loudly behind her.

Feeling even weaker than before, she allowed him to hold her up as his growls and rumbles grew softer and softer. Eventually he sat, taking her with him. The bright light was fading, leaving her feeling sleepy and lethargic. Beneath the layers of silk she could hear his heart beating steadily. Drawn into the sound, it coaxed her into a lazy doze, a smile tilting up the corners of her mouth,

____________________________________

 

When he dropped her close to the clearing that night, she cast out her senses, looking for a spark of the hanyou's youki. Finding nothing, she made a mad dash for the well and threw herself over the rim, praying he wasn't in her time. Feeling the familiar wash of magic, she held her breath and hoped. And wished. And prayed some more.

When she got to the other side, she climbed up the ladder, finally forced to release her breath and inhale a deep lungful of air. A shadow fell over her and she looked up, a groan building in her chest.

Prayer answered. No.

“Hi, Inu Yasha,” She mumbled, pulling herself up over the edge.

“Where the fuck were you?” He shouted, getting so close she was pinned between the well and him. Extremely uncomfortable with their position, she slid to the side and walked around him, hoping against hope that he wouldn't smell the blood or his brother's scent on her.

'Let the antiseptic cover the scent,' She mentally begged the gods. Surely she had earned a little luck? Then again, perhaps she had used it all that afternoon. That memory brought a hot blush back to her cheeks as she stalked towards her house, ignoring the ranting hanyou following her.

“Kagome, I'm fucking talking to you,” He shouted as they stepped onto her porch..

Spinning on her heels she turned to him, her sleepy pleasure from hours before fading into nothingness, replaced with annoyance and a tinge of anxiety.

“I was attending to personal business,” She snapped. “Sometimes people have private things to attend to.”

“Private?” He demanded shrilly, voice grating on her ears. “What the hell could you be doing that's private?”

“It's none of your business,” She huffed impatiently. “That's why it's private!”

“Keh, you are my business-”

“Not all of the time.”

“Kagome, how good to see you. I knew you'd be home soon. Inu Yasha has been so worried about you,” Nodoka's voice broke in. One pair of blue eyes and one of copper turned to the opened front door where her mother stood, a polite smile on her face.

“Hi, momma. Inu Yasha, I'm sorry if I worried you,” She ground out, gaze swinging back to the hanyou. “But as you can see, I'm fine. I'll be here for a few days, so please give me some time with my family.”

In the face of her mother's smile and her own fury, he uttered a sullen 'keh' and nodded, darting back to the well house before either of them could say any sort of formal farewell. Not that she minded in the least.

“Kagome, he was just worried. You shouldn't be so hard on him,” Nodoka admonished softly. Groaning, she walked past her mother into the house and threw her bag on the couch. The smell of food wafted through the living room and she followed it to the kitchen where the steamer patiently cooked rice and chicken. Her stomach rumbled hungrily and she leaned against the counter, contemplating the device.

“Kagome, tell me what's on your mind,” Her mother urged softly.

“I think I might be falling in love,” She admitted bluntly, a frown tugging her lips down. Her teenage love life had not been a pleasant experience, more like a minefield, and she was as ill prepared for the current situation as she had been for the last.

“I assume from what I just heard that it's not Inu Yasha,” The older woman said as she began pulling plates down from a cabinet.

“No. It's his older brother, Sesshoumaru.”

“I can see how that might be a problem.” The sound of the plates sliding against one another was loud in the kitchen, and the gently puffing steam added to it, somehow amplified in the small space.

“It won't last,” She pointed out to her mother, crossing her arms over her chest only to be reminded of the marks still crisscrossing the sensitive flesh.

“I didn't say it would or wouldn't.”

“He hates humans.”

Nodoka paused and turned, leaning against the counter to face her. Her soft brown eyes were considering for several minutes as she stared her down, and for a brief moment Kagome was terrified her mother could see through her, knew the secret she was hiding.

“You say it won't last, which implies something has already started,” The woman finally pointed out.

She shrugged defensively, unsure of how to tell her mother that at the present moment, she was an outlet for him, someone that complimented his desires and perhaps little else. He hadn't said a word when she thanked him for killing the youkai before, or for saving her. If anything, he had seemed to withdraw.

“It's something. I'm not sure what it is,” She admitted.

“Are you two involved?” Her mother asked delicately, earning an incredulous stare. The older woman shrugged and sighed, a smile tilting the corner of her lips. “Kagome, you're an adult now. I'm not so foolish that I expect you to stay a virgin until you marry.”

For several minutes she regarded her mother curiously. They'd had 'the talk' years before. Back then her mother had told her to wait for the right man, and that he would be special and loved. For a brief period of time she had considered Inu Yasha to be that person, but in the end had grown past him both physically and emotionally. Sesshoumaru on the other hand-

They hadn't had sex. But a small part of herself knew what they were doing was just as intimate, had, in a sense, the same end. Hedging around the truth, she nodded lightly.

“We've been intimate,” She finally said, knowing it was close enough to the truth that she wasn't lying to her mother.

“It's can be a strong thing, intimacy,” Her mother told her in a sage tone. “If he hates humans so much, why would he choose to make love to one?”

Oh, her mother had to use those words. A hot blush rose stained her cheeks and she hugged herself more tightly, wanting to disappear into the floor.

“It's complicated,” She sighed. “Either way, it's stupid of me to care about him. He's as focused on being powerful as Inu Yasha was on Kikyo.”

That comparison was one she knew her mother would understand, seeing as how the woman had nursed her through dozens of nights of tears and angry outbursts. A sigh greeted the claim, and she looked back to the older woman, who had a sad, nostalgic look, as if she was remembering something that made her happy and hurt at the same time.

“I loved your father very, very much,” Nodoka finally said in a soft voice. “We pictured forever. We planned for forever. But even when two people love each other very much, forever is not guaranteed. If you love him, don't end it prematurely because you know it will end.”

She hugged her mother tightly, tears burning her eyes. Even if they were different, even if their situations were so diametrically opposed that comparing them wasn't just laughable, it was insane, the wisdom in the words sunk into her heart, settling in. Waves of profound joy and sadness mixed, in the end blanketed with a sense of hope and resignation.

If the memories of her father were enough for her mother, perhaps the memories with Sesshoumaru would be enough for her.

____________________________________

 

She had been carrying it around in her purse all week, and the purse itself was stuffed so deeply into her travel bag that not even Inu Yasha would find it searching for ramen. Each night she had the temptation to slip it out of the bottom and pull the small bottle contained therein out, needing the solidity of it to reassure herself of her choice. Each night she resisted temptation, instead choosing to finger the healed lines overlaying the centipede's bite. Most of the cuts had been so light they'd healed within days, as if they'd never been, except for those.

She wanted something more. In the face of her mother's advice and her own decision to follow it, she'd made a second decision, one just as life altering.

Now if only she could put it into action.

Her opportunity came when Inu Yasha was too buys shouting at her -something he'd been doing more of lately- to notice the youkai bearing down on them. Her bow was in her hands, and arrow at the ready the moment she felt them near.

The battle was a cacophony of noise and sights. The youkai attacking were a clan of wolves, ones that held little regard for her status as Kouga's 'future mate'. They only cared about the shards resting against her breast, each youkai making a concentrated effort to get them.

Because of their similarities to Kouga and his pack, she was having problems letting the arrow fly. They just reminded her too much of her friends. Opting instead to run, she tried erecting a barrier around herself, panicking when two of them slipped past her friends and began gaining on her.

“Now would be a great time to save me,” She gasped as she panted for breath. A dip in the ground sent her flying, head over feet into a jumbled mess on the path. Scrambling to get up with one hand protectively over her chest where the shards rested, she was knocked back on her behind by a surge of youki.

The two wolves snarled angrily, their clawed hands clenching as the daiyoukai descended from the sky. He was like a rocket, moving so quickly she could only see a blur of white and red as it rushed past her and slammed into one of the youkai.

For a moment the wolf looked angry, and then his expression turned into one of complete confusion and surprise as his hand went to his neck. A thin red line grew, and his body began falling. As it slumped to the ground in a thud, the head separated, falling and rolling a few feet away, the expression one of ghastly shock.

The other wolf, quicker than his brethren, jumped and twisted away from the blur that was Sesshoumaru, until he staggered and held a hand to his stomach. Very neatly, grotesquely so, the top half of his body separated from the bottom. She looked away, flinching when she heard the squelching noises of his intestines spilling out. Gorge rose in her throat, choking her. Standing and stumbling away, she wove several unsteady steps while holding her stomach.

“The wolves have fled,” He commented. “The others are looking for you.”

Which didn't make any sense, because she hadn't gone far, and Inu Yasha's nose was notoriously sensitive.

“Why can't they find me?” She asked quietly.

“I am masking our presence,” He admitted just as softly.

“Can we, I mean-” She stuttered. He had always approached her, always commanded that she follow. How was she supposed to ask, when she had no idea how to?

“I would not have taken such precautions otherwise. What will the hanyou think?”

“I'll tell him I got lost and made for the well,” She finally said, knowing the excuse would be flimsy at best, but desperation won out over caution.

“My bag, is there any way we can get it without them seeing?”

“They are further afield. The firecat is the only one with your things,” He said, already walking over to where the fight had broken out. She followed, jogging to keep up with him. Mentally she took tally of the after effects of the battle. Besides a surge of adrenaline and a few bruises, nothing had physically happened, so he wouldn't be able to deny it on the basis that she was injured.

Hope sparked into her chest, growing into a small flame as they walked by Kirara, who watched them with quiet, considering eyes. She dug through her bag and pulled the purse out, then closed her travel bag again.

“Please don't tell them,” She begged the fire cat quietly. “Please.”

Kirara butted her head against her chest, a purring sound like a giant engine beginning to vibrate the large form. Rubbing the feline's giant ears, she kissed her on the bridge of her nose and turned to Sesshoumaru. Already a cloud was waiting for her, and she hopped on, excitement mingling with the hope and making her hands tremble. She clutched the bag more tightly, smiling as she thought of the contents.

The sun set, twilight dimmed into night, and when they finally landed, she woke from a light doze, her arms still holding the purse in a death grip. Stretching her limbs, she followed him into the small house, watching as he lit the fire with nothing more than a careless flick of his wrist. The lanterns, likewise, began glowing gently, pushing the shadows further back to the walls.

“I brought something,” She whispered breathlessly. His brow arched in such a way that commanded she continue, and she pulled the bottle from her bag, holding it out to him. He took it in hand, reading the label silently.

“Sumi?” He asked, looking back at her.

“It's tattoo ink-” She began, but stopped when his eyes narrowed angrily.

“You want me to tattoo you, like a criminal?” She was surprised that he actually sounded  _offended_.

Apparently her idea had not been a good one.

“In my time tattoos aren't just for criminals,” She defended, flushing hotly as she snatched the bottle from his hand and stuffed it back in the bag. “And it's not done in the same way.”

“You realize the marks will be permanent,” He snapped.

“Are you, I mean, is that alright?” She hadn't thought he might not want to mark her permanently, and suddenly she wished she had considered it, because it made her request seem all the more childish. Unfortunately, there was no way to take it back either.

“It is not my body,” He bit out.

“But you would be the one doing it,” She rebutted gently.

He was quiet for several minutes, contemplating her silently through narrowed gold eyes.

“Why?”

“Because-” She paused, unable to tell him the real reason. Scared of the words that were going to slip out, she shook her head, hugging her bag to her chest, feeling foolish. Hot tears of humiliation gathered in her eyes and spilled over, sliding down her cheeks.

“If you cannot tell me why you want such marks, I will not aid you.”

“Sango said her village did something similar, with the ash of their first kill,” She whispered, a tinge of desperation making her words higher than normal.

“That is a rite of passage for hunters,” He bit out coldly.

“It's a reminder, a mark to prove what they've done. What makes you think I wouldn't want something like that? Just because I wasn't raised to be a slayer doesn't mean I wouldn't want a reminder.”

“What you suggest is not the same.”

“How?”

“You are asking me to mark you,” He snapped, losing patience. Shocked by his display of temper, she stepped back, bumping into the screen behind her. “What's more, besides asking me to mark you, as if you were my  _property_ , you are asking me to mark you like a common criminal,” He finished in a snarl. Wishing the wall at her back was at least a few feet further back, she shook her head, the tears only increasing as he stepped closer.

For the first time since they had begun their strange relationship, she felt afraid of him, and she found it was not a feeling she enjoyed.

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize, I didn't know-”

“Just because I have indulged this perversity-”

“What?” She interrupted, the words abruptly shocking her into cold numbness. He said them with such abhorrence that she wasn't sure he was even the same youkai she had stolen a handful of nights with, much less the person she had thought she might be falling in love with.

“You think this defect pleases me?” He growled. “You-”

“It's not a defect,” She snapped back, shaking her head in denial. “It's not. It's just what we are.”

“You accept so blindly-”

“I have not,” She shouted, angry that he was willing to dismiss her own feelings so easily. “It took me years to accept what I am, to understand it. You might live for centuries, but I only get eighty or ninety years at best! Years, think about that. I hated myself, hid it from everyone, have hidden it from everyone, would have kept hiding it if you-”

“If I hadn't what?”

“ _You_ were the one that asked the questions, that needed to know, that started this!” She accused, knowing she was wrong even as she shouted at him, but so angry the words wouldn't stop coming. “I spent years trying to figure out if something had happened to me to make me like this, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing! I felt guilty for being born different, and then, by the grace of the gods, I accepted it. It's just there, and I will be damned if I stand here and let you of all people tell me I'm defective or broken because of how I was born,” She finished, standing straight and keeping her head high despite the frustrated tears pouring down her face.

He said nothing, not even when she stalked away and opened the door. Not caring where she went, just needing to get away from him, she stumbled down the steps and ran blindly over the soft grass surrounding the small retreat into the woods.

It wasn't until the woods thinned and the ground turned to sand that she looked up from the earth. Breathing heavily, she could barely hear the roar of the ocean as it hit the beach again and again. Inhaling shakily, she stumbled through the sand, clumsy in her shoes. Pausing only to kick them and her socks off, she ran for the water, pulse pounding in and out in time with the tide.

Not thinking, just acting on impulse, she ran into the water, slowing as it tangled her pants and weighed them down. With an angry, frustrated scream she lobbed the bag, watching it land yards away and float on the current, then get pulled under as another wave swelled. As it disappeared from view, the small, hopeful part of herself broke down and the tears gave way to choking sobs.

Apathetic to the fact that she was knee deep in water. She sat down, pulling her knees to her chest and letting the sea push and pull at her as she openly sobbed, the salty mist mixing with her tears.

“Stupid male,” She muttered, rubbing her nose on her sleeve as the tears abated, leaving her alone in the vastness of the water and sky. Feeling like a small thing in such an open place, she found that it was comforting, in it's way. The universe was not infinite, but it felt like it was when she looked in the distance and couldn't see the line that distinguished the sea from the sky. In such a big place, her own problems seemed small, although no less hurtful.

“You imply this Sesshoumaru is stupid,” A voice said behind her. She turned, surprised to see two boots floating above the water. Above the boots were the legs of pants, which in turn led to a flowing white kimono. Above that was his face, which she didn't particularly want to see at the moment.

“Go away,” She muttered, turning away from him and looking back to the place where the ocean and the night sky met with a smidgen of longing. She wanted to go to that place, knowing she would never find it. Only another shore, which would doubtless be as disappointing as the one she currently occupied.

He said nothing, but he didn't leave either. She could feel him at her back, floating above the water as if he was the Christian messiah, although she had a feeling that male had been at least a little humble, and a little understanding.

“Sesshoumaru, if you think it's a perversion, why did you do anything? Why did you keep asking questions, why did you bring me here?” She finally sighed, accepting that he wasn't going anywhere. And unlike her, he was not getting cold.

“Because you accept it in yourself.”

“That's it?”

“I have never acted on my impulses before,” He admitted. Craning her neck to look over her shoulder, she eyed him warily.

“You've hurt enough people,” She grumbled sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“It is not the same,” He argued quietly. “Do you find pleasure when an enemy hits you?”

She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “I was being sarcastic. I figure it's probably like mine. I don't like it when an enemy hits me, or I stub my toe.”

“Then why that day?” He asked.

“I don't know,” She admitted, surprised by the honesty of it. Standing and ignoring how cold the wind felt hitting her soaked clothes and skin, she trudged back to shore. The water dripped down, then picked up sand as she trekked back to her shoes. By the time she picked them up, she was covered in a layer of grit, and shook her feet to no affect.

“Come,” He sighed, his signature cloud appearing next to him. Sitting on the transparent red mass, she crossed her legs and braced herself as he lifted into the air and took them up the hill and over the forest. When they landed next to the small house, she stepped off and looked to the building sadly. Resigning herself to never entering it again, she shrugged and forced a bright smile to her face.

“If you don't mind, could you drop me back at the well?”

“You will explain something first,” He rumbled, making her smile falter. Valiantly trying to keep it, she nodded once.

“Why would you ask for a permanent marking from me?”

That was a question she did not, under any circumstances, want to answer honestly, so she settled for a half truth, and hoped he wouldn't be able o tell the difference.

“You're the first person that's ever known me like this,” She finally said, breaking the silence. “I've never been with anyone before. I've never had sex, or even kissed someone. But this, it feels like more than that. It feels more intimate than I ever imagined it would. More fulfilling. Maybe I'm just overly sentimental, I guess.”

“You would take such marks for so little?”

“It's not little, not to me,” She admitted, not wanting to be hurt by his dismissal and failing miserably. Suddenly she was a teenage girl again, feeling the sting of rejection for something completely and utterly beyond her control. It was the ultimate irony that it was Sesshoumaru continuing where his brother had left off.

“You threw the bag in the ocean.”

She nodded, feeling miserable and foolish.

“Come,” He rumbled, walking up the steps onto the veranda. Unsure of what to do and given little choice but to follow, she gave in and walked behind him, a sodden, gritty mess. Left standing in the main room, she shuffled over to the fire, hoping to grasp what little warmth she could. He left her, walking behind on of the screens and emerging with a blanket.

“There is nothing here to fit you,” He said, offering it to her. She took it, still not completely understanding what he was doing. He left her alone again, and still lost, she peeled off her shirt and pants, then gave up and removed her underwear. Laying it out near the basin, she wrapped the blanket around herself and sat down, feeling infinitely small and very alone as she contemplated the flames.

A whisper of silk and she felt him behind her. Not wanting to look at him, she chose to continue looking forward, spots dancing in the darkness behind her eyelids when the fire became too much to look at.

Wordlessly, he pulled the blanket down, exposing her back. Tears pricking her eyes, she tried to keep it up, to resist his insistent tugging. In the end though, he won, as she knew he would.

“There is another way,” He murmured, a pointed claw grazing the line of her spine.

She wasn't sure she wanted the marks anymore. If he hated that part of himself, she wasn't sure she would feel the same looking at them as she had before. What she would have seen as something beautiful, and hoped he would at least remember fondly, would probably only be a distasteful memory to him, if he chose to remember it at all. That in and of itself would taint them, make them less than beautiful.

“Why would you do it?” She choked out.

“Perhaps because you are the first I have ever shown this side of myself,” He admitted in a carefully neutral voice. “Because you don't hate it.”

There was an undercurrent to his words, a tension she couldn't quite label with any one particular emotion.

“What would you do?” She finally asked, feeling more vulnerable, more exposed than ever despite the fact that he could only see her back.

“Ink is too common, it is for criminals only. Ash too susceptible to failure.”

“Meaning?”

“My youki,” He intoned.

That idea was as frightening as the thought of using ash. The ink seemed infinitely safer. Letting him use his claws on her like normal seemed a billion times safer.

“Your youki?” She stammered, heart climbing into her throat and finding a cozy spot for itself.

“Hnn. They will not become infected, as you fear with the others. And they will never fade.”

Could she accept marks from him? Could she endure having his youki make those marks?

“Alright?” She whispered, the word coming out as a question.

His hand moved over her flesh, the claws trailing lightly and calling forth goosebumps as they teased her sense of touch into overstimulated awareness. The familiar touch relaxed her, and unthinking, she began leaning into him, barely noticing when his legs unfolded to rest on either side of her body.

“Are you ready?” He asked. She hummed her agreement, already sunk into the featherlight sensation of his claws and the pads of his fingers slipping over her flesh..

When his youki swelled around them, her own ki flickered as a natural response. Quelling it, squashing it mercilessly beneath her will, she waited, savoring the feel of  _him_  slowly winding around her. At first the sensation was dull, the slight pinpricks reminiscent of a limb falling asleep. Quickly it intensified, gathering strength and bearing into her skin. Within seconds it had gone from static to red hot, like an iron heated as it was held to her flesh.

White light burst in her vision, obscuring the world as a scream echoed through the small house. Her sight gone, she was left with the feeling of his youki branding her, searing her flesh in a pattern she couldn't decipher. Above that, around that, she felt the solid warmth of his chest supporting her and his hand moving over her breast, down the soft plain of her stomach and between her legs. His fingers glided over her, slipping against the wetness and rubbing small circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves before moving again. His palm ground against her clit and his finger pushed into her, teasing her entrance.

The unfamiliar sensation of someone else touching her there combined with the euphoria spiraling around her sent her screaming over the edge, tears coursing down her cheeks as she called out his name.

She was still trembling violently when the world came back into focus, the blinding white seeping away into the darkness of the small house. The fire flickering next to them was unnaturally bright to her sensitive eyes, and she turned her head, finding comfort in the silken warmth of his kimono.

“It is done,” He murmured. She hadn't even noticed the youki was gone, so dazed from the force of her orgasm that coming down was proving to be a challenge she could not meet.

“Thank you,” She whispered, voice hoarse.

“You-” Here he stopped, and she wondered if he was often confounded when thinking of her. Feeling sleepy and lazy, she didn't notice that she was curling further into his form, shifting little by little until she was leaning fully against him, her legs tucked carefully between his and her cheek resting against his chest, right over his heart.

“Now more than ever I should frighten you,” He finally said.

“But this is where I feel safest,” She murmured sleepily, the darkness growing and pulling her under. In the distance she heard him saying something, although it was muffled and dim, like he was speaking to her through a cloud.

“Perhaps you are mad as well as perverse.”

____________________________________

When she woke, she was, by some miracle, in her own bed. Panic overwhelming her drowsy contentment and shattering it, she jumped up from her bed and looked down at herself, afraid the night had been a dream.

But the blanket wrapped around her was the one he'd given her. Dropping it quickly, she looked down at her body. The sight that greeted her sent her heart into overdrive, pumping madly in her chest as she struggled to breathe and hold back a fresh wash of grateful tears.

Thin, elegant lines sloped over her skin, curving and coursing with the curves of her body gracefully. Whorls and dips, barely raised and only slightly paler than the flesh itself began and ended. From what she could see, there were two that swooped down from on her sides, and eager to see more she pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and rushed to the bathroom.

There she could see that he had begun between her collarbones, two lines sloping up over her shoulders. Turning, she traced them with her eyes and they curved in, mimicking the lines of her shoulder blades before swelling and coming back to come just barely show on the front of her stomach before curving again.

On her arms were another set,winding a long path down like a pale spiral tattoo. Reverently she traced one, shivering at the memory.

Then reality came crashing down on her. How had she gotten back to her time? As far as she knew, only Inu Yasha could travel through the well, and if that had happened, disaster had surely struck. Shuffling out of the bathroom back to her room, she dropped the blanket on her bed and began dressing slowly, zombie like as she considered the possibilities.

She was fairly certain Sesshoumaru would not have just dropped her off with Inu Yasha. Something had changed between them, but not for the worse, at least she hadn't thought so. Remembering his hand expertly manipulating her sex she acknowledged that it had never happened before, but that couldn't have been a reason for him to drop her with Inu Yasha. He had done it, after all, she hadn't trespassed over any boundaries. He had offered to mark her with his youki, and he had held her after. He wouldn't have held her if he was angry, right?

In all, she couldn't imagine him risking exposing their relationship, such as it was, for things he had done.

Which ruled out Inu Yasha. But then, how had she gotten back?

Running impatient hands through her hair, she growled softly and walked over to her desk and stared at her computer. The urge to contact Junpei was overwhelming, but he and his partner were both on vacation, visiting a convention of some sort in the united states. She wasn't sure what she would say anyway. She'd only told him that she'd begun a relationship of sorts with someone, and that she was having an amazing time. Not once had she touched on the fact that she was falling in love with him, and that he was as hard to reach as the top of mount fuji.

Groaning, she gave up on trying to figure out the mystery of how she'd gotten home and decided to just go back as she'd planned. After all, waking up in her own bed had effectively destroyed the high she was used to riding on, and she accepted with grim determination that as long as she went to Sesshoumaru, that was how it would be.

Sneaking out of her house was easier than she had thought it would be, owing to her family's apparent absence. Looking down at her arms again, she wondered if she would just explain the scars away as another rite of passage. Sango would accept it readily enough, although she wasn't so sure Inu Yasha would. He had seen people of her time, although in the past few years he'd come to the future less and less. Hoping the lie would withstand their perusal, she inhaled deeply and jumped down, feeling the magic wash over her.

When she grabbed onto the vine, she began pulling herself up, huffing impatiently as she did so. If the well was so powerful, why couldn't it just send her up to the top while it was at it? Ignoring the contrary magic, she drug herself over the wooden lip and began walking with long, determined strides.

He met her halfway to the village.

“Where the fuck have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you!” He shouted, stopping short of bowling her over.

“I got lost, so I headed for the village and decided to go home for the night,” She quipped, hoping he was too angry to notice her arms.

“You got all the way back to the well?” He muttered, disbelief obvious. “It was miles-”

“I was scared and running. Demons, remember? When I recognized where I was I headed for the well since they couldn't follow me through.”

Clearly he wasn't aware of what she had been doing, or he wouldn't be talking to her. Or he'd be screaming and calling her names, maybe even threatening her. Instead, he fell into step beside her, either accepting the lie or letting it go. She wasn't sure which, and she wasn't going to press the issue. They were silent as they walked from the woods into the outskirts of the village.

“What're those?” He demanded once they were out of the shade, grabbing her arm roughly to examine the raised line. Pulling away from him, she said the first thing that came to mind.

“Markings.”

“I can see that,” He snapped impatiently. “What for, where'd you get it?”

“Some people in my time get them,” She hedged. “And my reasons are my own.”

“You were only gone overnight,” He said, still eying them curiously.

“It's a future thing,” She lied, hoping he would believe it.

Shippou hit her with the force of a cannonball, arms going around her legs and hugging tightly. Sango and Miroku followed at a more sedate pace. Thankful for the interruption, she greeted her friends and repeated the lie she had told Inu Yasha, mentally flinching as she did so.

“Well, we can get going, there's still enough light,” The hanyou said, taking command of the group. Grateful for the reprieve from his questions, she ignored the curious glances and accepted her travel bag her bag, readying herself for another long bout of traveling.

Her gaze kept returning to the raised lines, and from time to time she brushed her fingers over them, allowing herself a small smile. It was real, they were real. Even if things were not ideal, she allowed a flush of warm pleasure to calm her fears. Even if he did not love her, he cared enough to mark her, to give her that much. In the grand scheme of things, it might have seemed small to anyone else, but she reveled in the knowledge, in the memory of receiving them and in the lingering feel of his body supporting her own.

____________________________________

 

Despite Inu Yasha's obstinate, mulish behavior, the rest of the week passed in a happy blur. She laughed and giggled, she joked with Sango and brushed off the inquiries into her marks with a secret smile, saying only that they had been a gift. Even when they were forced to camp in the open, she didn't complain. The more cheerful she seemed, the more cheerful everyone else became, except for Inu Yasha, who only grew more and more sullen.

When seven days had passed, she began looking for him again. When ten nights passed, she shrugged and determined that he was busy.

When two weeks went by without his presence, she became pensive, and began fingering her marks lightly, her smiles becoming more and more forced. There had been several battles, and not once had he shown up to help them. Not once had they stumbled upon him slaughtering a youkai they would have come across. In fact, it was as if he didn't exist.

Three weeks passed with no sign of him at all, and she began to worry that something had happened to him. With each day she became more and more withdrawn, trailing her fingers over the marks when no one was looking. As her mood spiraled deeper into worry, and then into self doubt, Inu Yasha's mood seemed to lighten.

There were many, many hanyou shaped craters created that week.

____________________________________

She carefully slipped past the sleeping taijiya and the two sleeping men across the doorway. Kirara blinked at her, pupils reflecting bright green in the darkness. Tip toeing out of the room, she slid the door shut behind her and stepped into the cool rainy night, looking up to the sky. Even if the moon had been visible, the rain clouds would have obscured it. Ignoring good sense she stepped from the small veranda onto the soggy ground, arms hugging her sides tightly.

Despite the warm night the rain was cold as it began soaking through the linen kimono she wore to hide her marks. Shivering, she looked back up to the sky, and tentatively cast her senses out, trying to expand her awareness.

There was nothing besides the feel of humans around her, the odd flickers of youki in her mind's eye easily recognized as belonging to her companions.

He wasn't there. He wasn't  _near_.

“Oh kami,” She whimpered, understanding slowly creeping over her hope, smothering it beneath it's weight.

Since starting, he had never waited more than a week to come to her, and he had always come to her on nights of the new moon. It had been almost a month. And the moon was absent from the sky, hidden in it's own shadows. If he was going to retrieve her, he would have.

“He's not coming back,” She whispered, choking on the words as they came out, not wanting to believe them but unable to deny their truth.

She had accepted that it wouldn't last, that he wouldn't want to keep stealing moments in time to indulge their desires. But-

But she hadn't thought he would end everything so abruptly, so quickly. She had hoped for more, just one more time. Every time she had just hoped for one more night.

The world grew dim and foggy around her, even the rain seemed like an echo as it hit her skin, barely registering as she fell to her knees. A hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up through the tendrils of wet hair covering her face. Concerned purple eyes peered back down at her, and Miroku knelt beside her.

“I promised myself it would be enough,” She sobbed, rocking back and forth, trying to stave off the crushing certainty that she was alone again. Alone and unwanted.

He seemed to understand, even if he didn't, and she didn't care that he didn't. It didn't matter, because it was her secret, and Sesshoumaru's, and she would never tell, not anyone. Not even Miroku as he brought his arms around her, hugging her tightly as she rocked back and forth, bawling into his damp robes. Her body shook with the force of her sobs, shoulders jerking as she gasped for breath around the thickness in her throat, the twisting of the knife in her heart.

“But it wasn't. It wasn't enough.”

____________________________________


	3. Chapter 3

Standard disclaimers apply. I own nothing.

____________________________________

They were ambling along quietly. The mood of the group seemed largely subdued. Since that night in the rain, she hadn't been able to muster the strength to argue with Inu Yasha, and despite his initial impatience with her despondency, he'd laid off and let her stew in her own depression. Miroku had said nothing to her about the night she'd bawled like a child in his arms, and she was grateful he didn't press for details. Sango gently inquired from time to time, and she always fended off the questions with a forced smile.

Shippou was another matter. He knew she was sad, and in his naivete, he blamed the hanyou. The kit's pranks were childish and petty, but they did lighten the mood from time to time. If nothing else they distracted the others from her own visible sadness.

“Goddamnit,” Inu Yasha muttered, pulling Tessaiga from it's sheath. She looked up, wondering what he was cursing about. Then she felt the undeniable flavor of  _his_  aura. Instantly her heart clenched painfully, refusing to work properly as the small group of travelers came into sight. Most easily spotted was the daiyoukai himself, standing out from the green landscape like a patch of snow.

Shippou shouted happily, bouncing from his spot on Kirara and careening headlong into the other group. Rin slid from Ah Un and began chattering excitedly, her high piping voice mixing with the kitsune's. As they drew nearer, she tried not to hope, but it flickered dimly anyway, resisting her best efforts to extinguish it.

“Sesshoumaru,” Inu Yasha snapped.

The daiyoukai said nothing as he walked past them, eyes fixed forward. There was nothing to suggest he recognized her, nothing to hint that he even cared that she existed.

“Rin, come along. Sesshoumaru-sama will leave you behind otherwise,” Jaken squawked angrily, shaking the staff in his hand threateningly.

She stopped, watching his back as he continued.

He didn't turn. He didn't even slow. He just kept walking, ignoring them completely, seemingly oblivious to the presence of his ward and the imp trying to catch up to him.

“What a jerk!” Shippou huffed angrily as the other travelers became nothing more than small dots in the distance. “I hope he sits on a sword someday.”

“Keh, he's always been an asshole. We're not good enough for the likes of a pure bred like him,” Inu Yasha snapped as they continued on. She followed behind, walking a little more slowly. Grateful for the wide linen sleeves of the kimono to hide her hands in, she ran her palms over her arms, shuddering as Inu Yasha began ranting about his half brother.

Every word was a blow, a knife wound into her chest, and yet the hanyou continued on, utterly oblivious. The others agreed with him from time to time, or brought up their own points. When asked, she made affirmative noises, hands gripping her arms tightly.

When she looked at them later that night, she realized in her effort to control her tears, she'd left ugly, deep bruises. Where they overlapped the brands, the lines were all the more vivid, almost mocking.

____________________________________

 

She watched his fist disappear into the strange youkai, a sense of triumph welling through her. In the next instant, the triumph shattered as thick spikes erupted from Magtasuhi's back, impaling themselves in Sesshoumaru's arm. Immediately the flesh blackened and putrefied.

It didn't matter that he'd avoided her, that he had ended everything and ignored her the few times they had crossed paths in the past few weeks. In that moment her heart stopped beating as she began stumbling towards the pair, summoning her reiki and hoping she could do something to help him, needing to do something.

“You are weak,” The youkai hissed, red eyes filled with cold mirth as the spikes slid out, retracting back into the creature's body.

A wave of youki surged through the valley, and her scars burned in response, flashing hotly and feeling like ribbons over her skin, giving her pause. Her arms hugged her body as the warmth surged through her, and she watched, stunned, as his arm healed itself in the split second it took for the youki to wash over them and then pull back. It was more than just healing his arm, it was a declaration of his power.

A hundred different limbs, all seeming to belong to one youkai or another, but none matching, exploded and wrapped the daiyoukai in their grasp. Within seconds he was entirely hidden from view, wrapped in the ever tightening coils of Magatsuhi.

“Sesshoumaru!” She screamed, fear sending her scrambling over rocks again, towards where the slithering mass of appendages held the daiyoukai.

A pulse of youki sent her to her knees, the ribbons of heat returning, and she had the strangest feeling that he knew she was afraid, and did not appreciate her lack of faith in his abilities in the least.

Rarely had she seen him in his true form, and as the tentacles stretched and snapped, tried to compensate for the sudden size they were trying to hold, she watched in awe as he emerged, red eyes blazing angrily.

Nodding once and steeling her shoulders, she pulled an arrow from her quiver and took aim, hoping to hit the tentacles still flying through the air, trying to trap him. Inu Yasha was shouting in the distance, telling Sesshoumaru not to be stupid and let him do his job. Sesshoumaru's hulking form sailed gracefully through the air, and she had shot a second arrow when he took Magatsuhi's head in his jaws.

The body collapsed, and miasma exploded everywhere. Immediately she covered her face and ran for Sango and Miroku, who were shielding Shippou, Rin and Jaken. Kirara roared angrily, allowing her back into the circle.

The tentacles wrapped around Sesshoumaru, and she reminded herself that he was strong, that he would endure, and would not appreciate her worrying over him. However, where her arrows touched, the ki in them sparked and died, like a small bolt of electricity fizzing into smoke. Hopelessness lanced through her as she shot arrow after arrow, determined to do any damage she could. When she chanced a look at Sesshoumaru, her heart skipped a beat as he fought the tentacles covering him.

“Sesshoumaru-sama,” Rin gasped, sobbing aloud behind her.

“Don't worry Rin, nothing is going to happen to him,” She promised breathlessly as she notched another arrow and let it fly.

There was another pulse of youki that warmed her body and gave her strength. From the corner of her eye, she saw the huge inu disappear in a ball of light, and Sesshoumaru flew out of the mass, Tenseiga at the ready.

“What the hell is he doing?” Sango bit out, watching the daiyoukai move beyond the floating head, sword held high. He brought it down in a long arc, slashing at air.

A shriek pierced the air, Magatasuhi's voice booming above them as a face materialized where Tenseiga had swung, a long slash marring it's round perfection.

“You worthless mutt,” It shrieked, glaring down at Sesshoumaru through it's one good eye.

Tentacles surrounded his body again, this time in force.

Inu Yasha shouted something, but it was fuzzy and muffled as her blood roared in her ears. The jyaki emanating from the head and tentacles was smothering in it's malevolence, bathing her in a wash of sickly nausea. Sesshoumaru disappeared completely, and his youki dimmed to nothing in the mass of coils around his body.

“No!” She screamed, ignoring Sango and Miroku shouting at her as she ran for the writhing limbs caging him in. One of them knocked her back, sending her flying to the ground, her back protesting the scrapes from jagged rocks and the unforgiving earth. Ignoring the pain, she stood and made another run for the daiyoukai, screaming her denial when another coil wrapped around her.

“Your powers should have been sealed, little Ka-Go-Me,” Magatsuhi hissed as she was brought face to face with the normal head that Sesshoumaru had taken only minutes before. Jyaki pushed against her, trying to invade her senses and take over. She could feel it, his evil will just beyond her skin, pushing against it. An angry buzzing filled her ears before a short bark of laughter escaped the disembodied head, followed by another, and then another.

“Oh, this is new,” He hissed in an amused voice, licking his lips. “It seems you have been busy while I was gone. It is of little consequence. He fell to me, so will his protections.”

“He'll beat you,” She gasped, holding on to that thread of hope despite the darkness pressing down on her like a leaden weight. Somewhere in the back of her mind she grasped for Sesshoumaru's aura, searching for him desperately. Not even a flicker of his light remained.

The feel of the poisonous youki buffeted at her, doubling it's efforts to break through whatever was keeping it out. The feel of Sesshoumaru's youki awakened, warmed her skin, then began to burn hotly, as intensely as they had the night he'd given them to her. Screaming in agony, she clenched her eyes shut as light exploded from around her body, the scorching heat reaching her bones and wrapping around her heart.

An angry roar echoed through the valley, and she was falling, plummeting down to the earth. Vaguely aware of the wind pushing against her and her hair tangling in her eyes, she let the cold wash over her, grateful that the ribbons of his youki quieted into a subtle static rushing over her skin. Suddenly cradled against a solid warmth, she looked up, blinking to clear her vision. However, the whiteness didn't abate, but it shimmered and shifted with the wind. Looking further up, she saw she was cradled in his right arm, held to his side carefully.

His left sleeve was so tattered and torn there was only a ragged piece left imitating what had once been a stump, leaving his arm was free of any cloth, cutting wild paths around them as he seemed to glide. Where the sword touched, ash fell in it's wake.

“Thank you,” She whispered. “You let me keep my promise to Rin.”

Darkness crept into the edges of her vision, shadowing the white until there was nothing but a pinpoint of light that wave into the warmth cradling her, and then that too was gone.

____________________________________

She blinked groggily, sitting up and clutching her head. It pounded mercilessly, making her wonder if two particularly angry youkai were having it out over her brain.

“Kagome?” A voice whispered. She looked to her left and saw three pairs of concerned eyes watching her.

“Guys? What happened?” She murmured, shaking her head and trying to clear it of the ache, only making it worse in the process.

“Kagome, your marks,” Sango began, looking at them. She looked down at her arms, glad to find that they hadn't changed.

“How did you come by them?” Miroku asked, eyes meeting her own. There was a curiosity there, flavored by a genuine worry that sent a heavy brick of dread dropping into her stomach. She had avoided saying what the marks were, how she had come by them, and she didn't want to tell now. However, she had the strange feeling that her friends had an idea, at least.

“Why?”

“They reacted in your defense. With youki,” Miroku stated calmly. There was no condemnation in his tone, nothing to suggest he was angry. In fact, if anything he seemed mildly relieved and intensely curious.

“They were a gift,” She said at last.

“That's what Sesshoumaru said,” Sango pointed out. Unlike her lover, her tone held a tinge of anger and suspicion.

“I've never seen marks like that before,” Shippou butted in. “I don't see why Inu Yasha is so mad. They kept her safe, so he should be happy, right? Even if they are Sesshoumaru's.”

Oh no.

“Kagome, how did you come to receive such a-gift?” Miroku asked.

“Does it matter?” She whimpered, hunching her shoulders against Sango's glare.

“It doesn't to me,” He murmured thoughtfully. “But it does to others.”

“Sango?” She finally asked, looking at her friend's cold eyes. “Can you and I go somewhere, away?”

“If you promise to tell me  _everything_ ,” The taijiya bit out, voice frosty. She nodded, standing shakily. Her headache doubled, then tripled in intensity. Groaning, she clutched her head and bent her neck, a wave of nausea threatening. Stumbling, she followed the other woman out of the hut, noticing that Inu Yasha was nowhere in evidence. Wondering how much he knew, or what he assumed, she climbed onto Kirara. Out of habit she almost circled her arms around her friend's waist to hold on, but refrained when the woman's back stiffened.

“How far?” Sango asked.

“Away from Inu Yasha, he won't understand.”

“ _I_  don't understand,” The taijiya muttered as Kirara took flight.

After half an hour, they landed, and by that time the condemning silence was so thick she could choke on it. The only comfort she had was that the headache was gone. They slid off, and Kirara transformed to her natural state. Surprisingly, she coiled around her feet, mewling gently in encouragement. Taking a modicum of strength from the firecat's reassuring warmth, she sat herself and let her curl in her lap. Sango sat across from her, arms folded and expression set in firm, angry lines.

“So.”

“I can't tell you everything,” She sighed. “It's not that I don't want to, it's just that it's not just my secret.”

“Kagome-”

“It's not what you think. We haven't done, well, that,” She offered, flinching at how her words stuttered out. “I don't really understand why he gave me these, or why they reacted like they did. They  _were_  a gift. I didn't realize they would protect me though,” She added thoughtfully, tracing one of the spirals on her arms. For the first time in over a month she was able to look at them without the hopelessness that had become an intimate bedfellow.

“Kagome, why would you agree to be marked by a youkai like that? And by Sesshoumaru, he-”

“I care for him,” She shot out breathlessly. “I know it's stupid, please don't tell me it's pointless. I know it is. When he made the offer, I couldn't refuse. It's one of the only things I'll have of him when this is over.”

Sango was silent for several long minutes, each dragging into an eternity. Afraid to look up and see her friend's disapproval, she kept her eyes on Kirara, who was staring up at her with a strange sort of warmth, almost approval.

“He knows, I take it?” Her friend finally sighed.

“I don't know. I think he ended it, he hasn't come for me since he gave me these,” She admitted, the truth hurting even as she said it aloud. “I think he realized how much I cared.”

“I guess he cares too, if he was willing to embed protections into your skin like that. And he did save you.”

That thought was as damning in it's hope as it was wonderful to savor. Shaking her head, she squeezed Kirara gently, nuzzling her face in the soft fur of her ruff.

“Do you know why the marks reacted?” She asked, finally chancing a look up her friend's face.

“I've never seen anything like it,” Sango admitted. “But it's his youki, that much I can tell. I don't know if it reacted to you being in danger or his command, but it kept you safe. I guess I can't really complain, since it kept you alive.”

“Are you angry?”

Sango shook her head again and ran her hand through her hair, tousling it and shrugging.

“I wish you hadn't kept this from us,” The slayer admitted. “But I can understand why you did.”

“Inu Yasha doesn't though.”

“He's still getting over the shock of losing Kikyo, and he probably feels like he lost you too. You might have moved on, but he probably hadn't.”

“What was I supposed to do?” She groaned, feeling selfish despite the circumstances and feeling angry for feeling selfish. Despite the hellish catch twenty two she went on, a spark of righteous indignation giving her words an edge. “Was I supposed to wait for years while he got over Kikyo? I watched him go to her, watched him kiss her, and go back and forth between us. After awhile I got tired of it.”

“You didn't have to go to his brother though.”

“It wasn't intentional,” She shot out, face heating. Not at first anyway.

“I know you can't help who you love,” Sango pointed out. “Kami knows, I wouldn't have fallen for a pervert, at least not at first. But Inu Yasha won't see it that way. And those marks are a sign of choice.”

“Inu Yasha refusing to choose between Kikyo and I was a choice, and I don't begrudge him,” She admitted at last. “But it was his choice. I made one too.”

“So, anything else you can tell me?”

“What do you want to know?”

“How did it start? How did you, you know? I mean, Sesshoumaru of all people.”

“Part of it is the secret. But he just wanted to ask me questions, and then it sort of snowballed from there, I guess. We did some- things. When I got these, I thought maybe things had changed for the better. Then he stopped coming for me.”

And that was something she was still having issues dealing with. She told herself that hoping for him to come back had been childish and silly.

And now this. She tried to tell herself it didn't mean anything, that it couldn't.

“And you're okay with it?” Sango asked.

Inhaling deeply, she nodded.

“Why?”

Because it might be her only chance, because somehow, he was her mirror, the other side of the coin. Because each stolen night had ended with her caring a little more, until a little more became too much. Because he had found a way into her heart and claimed it without trying, because he was more, somehow. And because he made her feel free, in those stolen moments, safe and free.

“Sometimes that's just how it is. If I stopped trying because I was scared of getting hurt or being left alone, I'd end up alone anyway. At least this way I have something, I've  _known_  something.”

An arm rested across her shoulders, and she looked to her friend's caring eyes, wanting to break down and tell her everything when the concern reflected there warmed and encompassed her.

“You're very brave,” Sango murmured, hugging her.

Needing the solid comfort her friend's embrace provided, she leaned into the hug and found a measure of peace in it. The slayer might not know everything, but she knew enough, and unable to deny herself the solace that came with it, she took comfort in her friend's acceptance.

____________________________________

When they returned, the village was in chaos. Diving down to the ground, Kirara roared at the dissonance of the people around her screaming.

“What's wrong?” Sango demanded, running to Kaede, who stood, bracing herself with her bow.

“Kohaku, the spirit hid within him. He has taken Rin and gone to Naraku. I know not how far it is.”

Rubbing her friend's back in small circles as they absorbed the news, she tried to think about what the spirit would want with Rin. Jaken and Ah Un were both making agitated noises as the imp ran in circles around the dragons.

“I can still feel the jewel,” She told them. “Magatsuhi will be with Naraku. We've got to go get them.”

Sango uttered a small sob and nodded, already getting back on Kirara. Inu Yasha sailed down from whatever spot he'd been occupying in the trees, eyes narrowing when they landed on her. Coldly, he turned his back to her.

“Get Miroku,” She bit out, ignoring his disfavor and running over to Jaken. The imp was still screaming hysterically, and she had to grab his shoulders and shake him to make him stop.

“Worthless female, what are you-”

“We are going to go save Rin and Kohaku, and you  _will_  let me ride with you, or I  _will_ leave you here,” She declared, doing her best imitation of Sesshoumaru. The coldness of her voice seemed to stun the imp, who nodded dumbly in agreement. “Now let's go.”

She glanced to the twin sets of eyes staring down at her.

“I know where Rin is, and we can save her.”

They both rumbled and bowed their heads in understanding. She pulled herself up onto his saddle and waited for the imp to scramble up behind her. The dragons made a loud sound behind their strange bridles and moved over to Kirara. Inu Yasha was watching the whole spectacle with angry eyes, and Sango looked ready to fall off of the firecat. Miroku smiled that knowing, Buddha's smile that only he seemed able to manage as Shippou bounced into her arms, sticking his tongue out at the still glaring hanyou.

“Let's go!” She shouted, allowing Ah Un to jump into the sky. The others followed, even Inu Yasha.

Jaken's screaming and crying resumed it's normal decibel level, and she refrained from hitting him, but just barely. It was only her quietly worded declaration that she had to concentrate to find the jewel, and thus Rin, that finally shut him up.

____________________________________

In the distance she could feel the jewel, it's aura dark and oily against her consciousness. Both Ah Un and Kirara had tired from the breakneck pace she had set, and given no other choice, they had made camp. It was well into the night, and the others were each dealing with the stress in their own way. Sango and Miroku had disappeared into the forest, Inu Yasha and Shippou argued, and Jaken bemoaned his fate once Sesshoumaru found out he had let Rin be taken.

She paced. In fact, she walked out of camp, needing to get away from the cold glares sent to her by Inu Yasha every time Shippou told him to stop sulking over her marks. Not having the heart to argue with him when she was still trying to sort out the puzzle of the brands, she chose to flee, and it was with a heavy heart that she realized he didn't try to stop her, or even warn her to be careful.

When she had put some distance between herself and the encampment, she let out an angry, frustrated noise that was akin to a growl. The sound only further served to remind her of the problems she kept trying to forget.

“This is not the time,” She snapped aloud, growing impatient with herself. “Just not the time. In fact, it will  _never_  be the time.”

“Time for what?” He asked, shocking her into stumbling, her balance precariously off for two seconds before she righted herself.

“Nothing,” She sighed, directing her gaze to the ground. It still hurt to look at him, to know he was so close.

“Why are you not at the village?”

“Magatsuhi was hiding inside of Kohaku. He took Rin,” She explained in a soft voice.

“And you intend to find him how?”

“I can feel the jewel, and I'd bet my life that the bastard went to Naraku.”

“A safe assumption. Why have you stopped?”

“Ah Un and Kirara are exhausted. If we didn't stop to rest-”

“A wise decision,” He interrupted, stepping closer to her. Stepping back, she finally looked up at him. She tried to remember that it had been over a month since he had come to her, that he'd intentionally ignored her the few times they had crossed paths. That for all intents and purposes, he had pretended she didn't exist.

Until today. And she tried to remind herself that he had not saved her for any other reason than-Well, what had his reasoning been?

“I should probably be going back,” She whispered, moving to dart past him only to be stopped by his hand shooting out and grabbing her arm in the exact way he had the first time, reminding her painfully that everything had changed, especially her, and that she needed to get away from him.

“Please Sesshoumaru, this isn't the time-” She began, but was stopped when she was pressed against a tree branch, his hand pinning both of her wrists over her head while his left hand, the one he had spontaneously regenerated, trailed a claw down the length of one of her arms.

“Be still,” He rumbled as the claw, frightening and exquisite, pierced her skin and left a thin red trail weeping gently in it's wake. Despite the warm night air her skin pimpled with goosebumps, and a shudder wracked her body. The red was swirling in his eyes, thin veins that would have frightened anyone else, but only sent another shiver through her. His free hand pushed the kimono open and to the sides, exposing her breasts and stomach to his gaze.

“My brother knows that you wear my marks,” He said in a quiet voice as the tip of his claw pressed into the flesh between her breasts, pricking the skin and calling forth a drop of blood. With it came the familiar, heady breathlessness, the ice that quickly became fire as pain, or what should have been pain, blossomed in her chest. The claw continued it's line down the valley of her breasts, it's pressure leaving an impossibly thin red trail behind it.

“Then he knows,” She sighed, the lines of the world already becoming vague suggestions of their former selves. Only he was sharp and defined against the static. His gold eyes were focused, intent and bearing down on her, boring through her as if searching for something, although what it was she couldn't begin to fathom. She couldn't think of anything she hadn't given him already.

“Did you tell him?” He demanded in a dangerously quiet voice, releasing her wrists only long enough to push her kimono off of her shoulders and working on the ties of her hakama, letting them drop to the ground before beginning another line on her shoulder, skimming the skin with his claw and making her ache for the release it could bring.

He was angry, and she didn't understand why.

“No,” She whispered, falling from that small plateau she'd been resting on. The world became sharp, almost glaringly bright in the moon's light. “It's not just my secret.”

She wasn't sure if he was pleased by her words or angered.

“Our secret,” He rumbled her as the claw once again pressed into her flesh and drew blood forth. Her response died in her throat, coming out as a breathy gasp as she tilted her head to expose more of her flesh, greedy for what only he could provide.

“Perhaps we are both broken,” He sighed, ending the second line and beginning to draw four of his claws over her exposed breast, making her shiver.

“We're not,” She whispered, arching so that the pointed tips of his claws pressed more deeply into the orb of her breast. Adrenaline fueled her euphoria, dizzying her as he took it in his hand and squeezed roughly.

Even though she cried out in a strangled whimper, she did not want him to stop. Each moment could be the last, and she clung to it, resisting the urge to give in to the high so soon, needing to remember every second of him touching her.

“You will be the last, the only,” He admitted, voice almost reverent as his hand left off it's abuse of her breast and trailed down her ribcage. His claws dug in, trailing ice in their wake. Heat bloomed seconds later, the fire blazing it's own path to her groin. The dampness between her thighs misted the air with it's heavy scent, giving away her own perverse pleasure in his actions.

“One should not find pleasure in pain,” He growled, although his claws continued, digging more deeply into her skin as they moved over her naked thigh.

But she did. And she knew with heartbreaking certainty that he would be the last, the only, although perhaps for different reasons. Every part of her screamed out for more, begging wordlessly as she writhed against the tree, grateful his hand held her wrists securely so she wouldn't fall as the lines on her skin grew longer, stopped, and more began.

The blood dripping down, small drops cooling quickly over her skin, only further served to excite her already over stimulated senses. The bark against her back scraped her skin mercilessly in counterpoint to his own explorations of her body.

“My mirror,” He murmured, bringing a blood tipped claw to his lips and licking the tip almost daintily. The single taste seemed to undo his resolve, making him lean down and bring his tongue over the wound he had inflicted on her shoulder. His breath was warm and heavy on her skin, his tongue slick and smooth and hot as it lapped at the cut.

He had never done it before, and she reveled in the sensation as his tongue moved over her skin greedily before his lips latched onto it.

His teeth did not break the skin nearly so neatly as his claws had, but the feel of his sharp fangs puncturing the flesh and digging in sent her spiraling over the precipice, her scream building in her chest and echoing through the dark forest, met with his answering snarl as his claws gripped her thigh and drug it up to his waist.

Something was different this time. Whatever had changed, it had him dropping her wrists and fumbling with the ties of his hakama, pressing into her, tearing through her virginity without a moment of hesitation. As her maidenhead tore beneath his onslaught she whimpered, bringing her other leg up to wrap around his waist and keep him close.

“More of this?” He snarled, finally pulling away from her shoulder. “Is this what you want?”

“More?” She whimpered, feeling his claws on her side, cutting into her flesh and dragging down. Cold warred with the heat of him pressed into her, smothering her with his strength as he pushed her against the tree. “Yes,” She moaned, looking into his red eyes.

“Witch,” He snarled, pushing himself in and out of her again and again, gripping already torn flesh in his hands and twisting it, opening the gashes even further with his abuse and earning another scream for his efforts.

The fire rose up around them, consuming her in it's brightness as she fell into it, crying out his name, begging for him to never stop. Stars collided and exploded into a mosaic of colors, obscuring his crimson eyes from view as she held tightly to him, clinging to the feel of his silk kimono in her fists. Burned and blinded, she held on to the feel of his blood slicked hand coming to her neck and tilting her head.

Their first kiss was tinged with the taste of sweat and the coppery tell tale of blood as he demanded access, commanded her to give everything. Each thrust of his cock into her body came harder than the last, making her scream into his mouth. When his come spilled into her, hot and slick, she was rewarded with fangs biting her lips hard enough to draw blood, further flavoring their kiss with the metallic taste.

Blinking her eyes open, she looked at him in awe. Blood smeared the lower half of his face, and it was perhaps the only time she had ever seen his expression so open, so unguarded. Spent, pleasured, sated. Any one of those things could describe the sleepy look of his half lidded eyes and the faint tilt to his lips.

“We are both mad,” He murmured, licking the last remnants of blood from her lips. Feeling dizzy and heavy, she leaned forward and nuzzled him before her own tongue darted out to lick at his lips and chin, cleaning the crimson smears from his alabaster skin.

He let her, which would have surprised her if not for the warm cloud she floated on, somewhere far above the world. Outside of their clearing, nothing else existed. Even the tree at her back was strangely soft, and he was warm between her legs, against her chest. He was the solid center of reality, and everything beyond him was a dull gray shadow.

“We cannot do this forever,” He sighed when she had finally finished her task and nuzzled the crook of his neck, delighting in the earthy, warm scent of him.

“Why not?” She asked, fighting back a yawn.

“He saw us. I felt him near, then he fled.”

It was not the reason she expected, and she guessed that he was avoiding answering, deflecting neatly by mentioning his half brother.

“Then he knows.” It was said with resignation and determination. She had wanted to keep the secret for as long as she could, for always. That they were mirrors of one another had been a quiet revelation for all of it's intensity, one shared only between themselves.

“We're close to the end,” She murmured, allowing him to slip away. Already the blood was congealing, and she tugged the kimono on, wondering if the blood would stain through to the outside of the fabric, and finding she didn't have the energy to worry about it.

“What will happen after?” He asked in a neutral voice, coming to help her with pulling up her hakama and tying them. He was already the picture of normalcy, immaculate and pristine. The only signs of their interlude on his person were red lines and splotches on his kimono and hakama, her blood from where he'd pressed against her.

“I don't know,” She sighed. The night was full of firsts, not that she could complain. But the glow from her euphoria was quickly fading, and this time it was more abrupt, as she was still awake, and still had to journey back to camp and face everyone, who would doubtless guess at least part of what she had been up to. And Inu Yasha, who knew.

“Will you stay?” His tone was cold, almost clinical as she stepped back and pulled her hair free of it's messy tail, then began braiding it.

“I don't know.”

Because staying would not provide her with what she needed. If she stayed, she could only see missing him, being denied even the little she had now. In the end, she was still a human, and he was still a daiyoukai, and she doubted he would ever be able to see beyond that.

“Perhaps it would be best if you left,” He said, stepping away from her. She tied the end of the braid and nodded, unsure of her voice. Even though she knew he was right, knew that in the end she would be in love with someone that could not -and would not- ever love her, it hurt to hear him say it.

“Goodbye, Sesshoumaru,” She whispered, heart twisting painfully in her chest. Taking a resolute step back towards her camp, and then another, she paused next to him, tempted to touch him just once, but deciding that it would only end with her clinging to him. Another resolute step and she was beyond him.

There was the slight rush of wind behind her, and she turned, needing one last memory of him in the moonlight.

He was already gone.

____________________________________

All around her Naraku's body was caving in on itself, collapsing. Inu Yasha was mangled and unconscious from his battle with the pseudo hanyou, already on his way out on Shippou. No one to save her from falling off of Kirara, no one to catch her. She was falling, and more than anything else, she was sure that when she died, she was going to go without saying the one thing she wanted to. Imminent death came only with the ill timed realization that she was in love, loved deeply.

The jewel in her hand was a small beacon of light in the darkness, burning through it and reminding her what she had sacrificed several years and her real life for. She would have resented it, save for what it had given her in turn.

“Maybe this will be easier,” She murmured aloud as she plummeted into the darkness, Sango and Miroku crying out in shock and denial as the sped after her.

A bright wash of white surrounded her in warmth and softness, completely at odds with her surroundings.

“Sesshoumaru?” She whispered, blue eyes wide as she looked up at the daiyoukai. His pelt had wrapped around her, cradling her in it's warmth. He didn't acknowledge that she had said anything at all, but kept navigating the caverns as they collapsed. Somewhere behind them she heard Sango and Miroku calling out their relief.

More and more the grotesque husk of Naraku's body crumbled, releasing deadly miasma. Sango and Miroku held tight to Kirara, masks on tight, but she had nothing. Even more disconcerting was realizing that she was breathing easily despite the thick fog of poison hovering in the air.

“Sesshoumaru, are you doing something?” She asked, peering up at him with wide eyes.

“Perhaps it is because of the marks,” He intoned quietly. Puzzled by his words, wondering if he was unsure or just unwilling to admit that he had done it on purpose, she tried to figure out if the protections laid into the marks had been intentional or incidental.

When they came to an opening leading to the outside world, she allowed herself to caress the pelt wrapped around her, luxuriating in the feel of it's softness. Not caring whether or not he would be angry -after all, she would be gone soon, wouldn't she?- she ran her fingers through it and sighed appreciatively.

He flew her away from the hulking shell, back to the village the hanyou had been intent on destroying. When they landed, he said nothing, although to be fair, she hadn't expected him to. Rin and Jaken came over, Ah Un ambling behind them lowing happily as their master unwound his pelt from around her and stepped away.

Kirara landed and Sango rushed off of the firecat and ran to her brother, embracing him joyfully. Miroku followed at a more sedate pace, given the siblings time to enjoy the knowledge that they were free and together at last.

Inu Yasha watched her with wary eyes. Ever since she had come back to their camp the night before, the hanyou had been guarded around her, not that she could blame him. In the end, the joyful chaos circled around her, and she was in it's center, a still piece of glass that stood out of place. More than ever she understood that she did not belong.

“Inu Yasha, here, the jewel,” She said, holding it out in her open palm. The hanyou shuffled closer, a bandage covering one hand and his clothing torn. Already he was healing, the bruises on his face fading into traces of green and yellow. All around her the chaos dulled into quiet, everyone watching them in the epicenter of the tension. He made no move to take it, only looked at it before looking back to her.

“I'm fine the way I am,” He said at last. “I don't want it.”

The answering quiet was filled with shock and approval. She nodded, feeling tears gather as pride suffused her being. Despite their own ups and downs, she found that his contentment with his form made her deliriously happy.

“Do you, you know, need it?” He asked quietly.

“Why?” She asked.

“You know, to fix-whatever it is?”

Immediately she knew to what he was referring to. Shaking her head and sighing shakily, she smiled.

“I don't need to be fixed,” She whispered as she turned and walked over to Sesshoumaru. Feeling the weight of everyone's eyes boring into her back, she offered the jewel to him in the same manner she had offered it to Inu Yasha.

“If there is a wish,” She said, her heart twisting painfully in her chest, “Then it is yours.”

She tried to tell herself it didn't hurt that he took it, palming it and vanishing it into the voluminous sleeves of his kimono so quickly she only felt a rush of wind. She told herself that he didn't accept it like she did, that she was leaving so it wouldn't matter. But it did matter, and it did hurt. Feeling like she'd been completely and thoroughly rejected in every way, she nodded once and blinked back the tears. Her palm tingled from what would be the last time he ever touched her, the sensation making her clench her hand into a fist when it came back to her side.

“Sesshoumaru-sama,” Miroku started, moving closer to the group.

“No,” Inu Yasha interrupted, startling all over them. “If he wants to make a wish on it, let him.”

Perhaps she was being punished for acting on her desires. She was a miko after all. Maybe the gods had chosen to challenge her with such impulses, and she had failed. Or maybe it was karma, for tempting him -however unknowingly- in to giving into desires he obviously abhorred. Either way, he would wish them away, and she was stuck with the knowledge that as much as she embraced the strange pleasure, he sought to eradicate it within himself. That she treasured their brief relationship, and he hated the very foundation of it.

“Perhaps we should go,” Kohaku suggested, sensing the undercurrent of tension.

She followed the group, walking a little behind them. Inu Yasha walked next to her, giving her a resigned, strangely sympathetic look every few minutes.

“It's not natural,” He told her as the others moved further and further ahead of them.

“It's not unnatural,” She whispered, afraid that she was going to give in and start crying now that  _he_  was out of sight. “There are others like u-, like me.”

“Not here.”

“Not anymore,” She sighed, hugging herself. In the last several months, her healing scars had been a comfort. Now they were bitter reminders that she had found something glorious and terrifying and beautiful.

And lost it.

____________________________________

The tugging at her senses pulled at her, calling her into the darkness. Her friends were all involved in their own rejoicing, even Inu Yasha was having a good time as he told of their adventure. Looking around quickly, she stood and walked from the fire calmly, heart slamming in her chest as she drew further and further away from the fire. The familiar sensation of his youki swirled around her, a quiet command that guided her through the darkness to the clearing where the well stood.

“Hello,” She greeted cautiously, unsure how to act around the daiyoukai now that there was no longer a tangible connection between them. There was nothing to tie them together anymore, leaving her feeling as if she'd been cut free and cast adrift.

“Do you truly believe there is nothing to fix?” He asked quietly, gold eyes reflecting the moonlight.

“In myself, no, there is nothing to fix,” She murmured, hugging her sides as he stared her down.

“Does that mean you see something in me?”

“I do,” She sighed with a sad smile. “But it is nothing that needs to be fixed.”

“It seems strange, that we should have come together like this,” He intoned.

She told herself she didn't regret it, that it was alright, and that it had been worth it. In the end, she loved him, enough to let him be free of desires that he had hated. She only hoped he didn't hate her, didn't look at her with the same disgust he had perceived his own desires with.

“I have not made the wish,” He told her.

She wasn't sure what he meant when he said that. Was it an offer for her to make a wish, and to fix herself? Was it a rejection of the jewel entirely, or even a request for one last time before transforming his own psyche? Afraid of assuming anything and earning a reprimand she was sure she couldn't handle at the moment, she shook her head.

“I don't understand,” She whispered, hunching her shoulders, readying herself for the cutting verbal assault that was sure to come.

“You say there is nothing to fix,” He intoned, coming forward, hand held out. She lifted her hand and watched the pink orb drop into her palm, resting innocently. “Perhaps you are correct.”

Unable to hold back, she sniffed, then choked, and then a sob wrenched itself from her chest. Tears held in check for hours freed themselves, pouring down her cheeks as she nodded, eyes still on the jewel.

His clawed hand wrapped around her hand, closing the jewel in their fists.

“Mine,” He rumbled. She nodded her assent, unable to form even a simple yes as her world tilted on it's axis, righting what had been abruptly turned upside down as easily as if the hurt and shame had never been.

She watched as he took singular pleasure in undressing her slowly, exposing her to the warm summer night. Her clothing fell away to reveal the marks on her body, old and new. When she was bared to his gaze, she trembled, elated and afraid as his eyes devoured her, following the map of what he had done to her over the course of their strange relationship.

His own kimono came off, followed by his kosode, and he spread them on the ground, then her kimono. Next she watched him pull off his hakama, heart hammering it's way up her throat and sticking there. Even when he'd taken her virginity he'd stayed clothed. It was the first time any part of him was bared to her, and she could feel nothing but awe. He looked like a pale god carved from the moonlight itself as he took her hand and pulled her down to the ground.

His folded legs supported her bottom and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Below her, his skin was hot, almost feverishly so, branding her flesh as his hands wandered over her flesh, rough palms smoothing over the skin of her back and claws tracing paths and whorls lightly, teasingly. Already her blood sang, her skin tingling from his touch.

Down her back, up the curves of her sides, beneath her breasts, the sharpness of him dizzying and dangerous in it's guileless lightness. His hands traced her throat, the pointed tip of a claw pressing into the hollow of her neck, forcing her to tilt her head back and expose her throat. She could swear she heard a sharp intake of breath, flushing with feminine pleasure when his lips on the smooth exposed column, the tip of his tongue hot as it darted between the seam to taste her. Already she felt tortured and overwhelmed, whimpering as she soaked in the solid strength of him, clinging to it.

Needing to feel him, to stay anchored to him, her own hands smoothed over his chest, reveling in the smooth, flawless skin beneath her fingers and palms as she explored. His muscles moved beneath the skin, the dips and sharp lines of him shifting as he teased her skin into hypersensitivity. When he fingers tangled into his hair, his claws pushed into the flesh of her back lightly, cutting through the skin as he drug his hands down the expanse of her back.

Her moan echoed through the clearing as he gripped her sides. She could feel the droplets of blood sliding down her back, a trail of fire as they joined, one by one, to slide and rest at the top of the cleft separating her cheeks. She could feel the wetness between her legs, her clit throbbing painfully.

“Please,” She gasped, her hips bucking to rub her sex against his stomach. A deep, throaty chuckle answered her as he lowered his head and took a nipple into his mouth. He held it between his teeth delicately, resting over the metal piercing it, the tip of his tongue teasing with light flicks. Mewling desperately she arched her back, hoping for more. His answer to her offering was to bite down harder, pulling a ragged scream of pleasure from her throat. Unaware of her hands fisting in his hair, she arched higher and hugged him to her chest, the world around her shrinking to a pinpoint as she greedily strained to give him everything.

Again and again he tightened his jaw for mere seconds, then loosened, a steady pulse of pain shooting through her nipple to her sex, making her writhe on his lap. Too lost in the dim haze of her euphoria, she didn't notice his hand moving between her legs until she felt her clit pinched between two of his fingers lightly. The moment she felt the heat of the digits she sobbed his name as she struggled for breath.

He was cruel, she had known that. But his ministrations lightened into almost nothing, and he pulled away from her breast. Frustrated moans and gasps broke the stillness of the night as she moved against him, needing more of everything he could give.

“I have held back before,” He rasped, eyes glowing red in the darkness.

“Don't,” She pleaded. “Please, please, please,” She whimpered.

Her clit was pinched viciously, the sudden pressure sending her over the edge of reason. All around her an inferno roared into being, rising up from the earth and pushing her up into the sky with the flicking tendrils of it's limbs. Stars grew and burst like fireworks, skimming over her skin with their heat. Ice trailed and followed the curve of her ribs before melting into flames that licked the surface of her skin.

His grip was bruising and twisted her already torn flesh, drawing blood from the previous nights cuts and inciting another wave of the keen pleasure pain that pushed her higher into the night. His cock slid into her, burying itself in her sex in a single thrust. Even as she flew higher, he was tethering her to the earth, keeping her held safe in the strength of his arms.

Again and again he moved into her with agonizing slowness, demanding the whole of her. Each thrust climaxed in exquisite pain as he hit the barrier of her cervix and withdrew only to press against it again. Sweat dripped down her skin and burned the gashes left by his claws. Deep, feral sounds ripped themselves from his throat as he bit down on her shoulder. As his fangs sunk into her flesh, she flew apart, mentally shattering into so much stardust as liquid heat spilled into her, scorching her from the inside out.

____________________________________

When she came to, dawn was beginning to lighten the sky. She felt warm and sore, every muscle making known their protest of the previous night's treatment, and yet she couldn't stop the small smile tilting up the corners of her lips. Moving experimentally, she noticed that she was wrapped in his kimono, and that her wounds weren't nearly so bad as she had anticipated.

“Sesshoumaru?” She asked, looking to the daiyoukai that lounged in his hakama and kosode, looking utterly satisfied.

“Hnn.”

“Good morning,” She whispered, feeling shy suddenly. They had always parted before, and they'd never slept next to one another. She wasn't even sure he had slept. But this morning was as different from the others as it could have been.

“You are worried,” He stated calmly.

“I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now,” She admitted, blushing heavily.

“What do you want to do?”

She was about to tell him she had no idea, but it would be a lie. She had a perfect idea. It was a wonderful idea, to her, and she was terrified he wouldn't like it at all.

“Miko-”

“I think you can call me Kagome,” She said with a small smile as she pushed herself upright, feeling the tug of knitting skin protest the movement.

“What is it you want to do?” He commanded gently, gold eyes boring into her own, giving her the feeling that he saw her clearly and could read what she wanted as easily as if she had spoken it aloud.

“I want to stay here with you, to see where this goes,” She admitted in a small voice, bringing the pelt closer around her. It's warmth was safe and solid as she waited for his response.

“Then you may.”

____________________________________

Four hundred and thirty six years later she was delighting in the feel of him massaging a healing salve into her back and over her ribs.

“It seems I was more violent than I had thought,” He murmured as he slid his slick palm over a particularly vicious cut on the meat of her shoulder blade.

“It's been almost ten months,” She giggled, still riding on the high their pleasures had induced. “I think we were both a bit more enthusiastic than we intended.”

“Still-”

“It's the first time we've let go since finding out I was pregnant. And I'm still in one piece. Besides, they'll be fully healed in a few days,” She rebuked gently, reminding him that the brands he'd given her years ago had imparted more than either of them had anticipated.

She turned onto her back, knowing his eyes would fall to the light cut that ran between her breasts and curved to follow under one. As expected they did, and she took the time to stretch, her arms going over her head as she arched her back.

“I had fun,” She said with a lazy, hooded smile.

He was glaring down at her as if she were intentionally trying to tempt him, which -of course- she was. They had the moment down to a routine, as they should, seeing as how she had delivered their seventh child only two months before.

“I do not think-”

“I do think,” She interrupted.

“Your back-”

“You know how to be gentle,” She teased.

“Our definition of gentle is not that of other peoples,” He growled as he lowered himself, his lips moving to the thin red welt left on her skin.

“Are you saying you want to be like other people?” She giggled as his breath tickled her ribs.

“Never,” He rumbled, nipping her stomach as he moved lower and lower.

____________________________________

**Authors Notes:**  So if you're still here and reading this, I hope you enjoyed it for what it was. A kinky love story. This is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction based  _around_ sex (which apparently, is kind of what the gm challenges are for). If it was stilted or awkward, I'm sorry. I have this weird wall in my head when it comes to writing another person's characters getting it on, usually making me keep it vague, light and fluffy. 

As to how Kagome got home after being branded, Sesshoumaru embedded his youki beneath her skin. The theory has been that Inu Yasha can travel to her time because of the necklace. I'm going to assume the marks are just as much of a connection. Whether the results were intentional or accidental on Sesshoumaru's part is up to you.

I know one thing about this might bother someone out there (as it would probably bother me), and that's the fact that what I described is really unsafe for people to do without training. Which is why this is fiction. Cuttings, ink rubbings, ash rubbings, branding and piercing all require a great deal of training and practice. I know that, now you know that.


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